Fighter
by warbleretteinwonderland
Summary: Kurt Hummel begins to fall for Blaine Anderson, a promising young kickboxer who transfers to McKinley High School after a family tragedy. Blaine has spent his whole life fighting - but will he choose to fight for his title, or fight for Kurt?
1. Chapter 1

**Disklainer: **I own nothing and I never will. Now that the depressing facts are in the open, let's get on with the story!

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><p>'5 … 4 … 3 … <em>push it, Blaine! … <em>2 … 1 … Stop! Well done, Blaine! Excellent work!'

Blaine let out a huge, shuddering breath and hopped off the exercise bike, his legs shaking with exhaustion. A bottle of water was thrust in his direction and he took it, gasping for breath, and drank eagerly.

'Your fitness is improving!' his coach beamed, throwing him a towel, 'of course, you're not at your peak yet, but you're getting there!'

Blaine didn't answer, using one hand to grip the handle of the bike as the other ran the towel over his soaking skin. He listened to his coach prattle on cheerily, trying to steady his breathing.

Martin Ortiz cut an impressive figure; he was a big man of about six foot one, with closely shaven hair and piercing blue eyes. He had an even more impressive career record; thirty-two career wins, most of those by knockout, and almost half of those within the first round. Supremely fit and intense in his trainings, he'd coached Blaine from the start of his career, building him up towards what would be the most important fight of his life.

The featherweight championship.

So far, Blaine was undefeated, but he wasn't at the top. Not just yet. There was only one person in his way and Blaine was determined to make that title his.

Blaine, for his part, was a very handsome boy, the type you wouldn't associate with fighting. With his short, curly hair – which was usually gelled down when he wasn't training – and his burning hazel eyes and charming smile, he looked more like a dapper prep school boy than a fighter.

But of course, looks could be deceiving. Blaine used to be a student at Dalton Academy, Westerville's all-boys boarding school, and he was indeed a charming, dapper boy but he was vicious. He might have been a little short, but he knew where and how to hit, and his skill surpassed any boy he'd ever fought. He'd always been interested in fighting, and when he was seven his father signed him up for kickboxing lessons, having been a professional himself when he was younger. It was a legacy he had to continue; the Anderson boys knew how to pack a punch.

'You're really trying, Blaine,' Martin commented fondly, reaching out to tousle the boy's hair, 'you really want to do this, don't you?'

Blaine nodded, having regained his breath, 'this is my dream, Martin. This is everything we've been working towards.'

'Your father would be so proud.'

Blaine blinked back the tears that had instantly pooled, and he gave another jerky nod. Martin looked at him sympathetically, before clapping him on the shoulders.

'Hit the shower, buddy. We're done for today.'

They were cutting it short, Blaine realised, and he wished they weren't. He wished they wouldn't treat him like broken glass every time the subject of his father was breached.

Jonathan Anderson was his idol; an amazing fighter, an amazing father and an amazing person. His smile was contagious and never left his face; he was supportive and strong and everything Blaine wanted to be.

That summer, he had been driving with him. Just a drive – they'd been hungry and wanted take-out and Jon had insisted Blaine drive, seeing as he'd just brought his first beat-up car and was incredibly eager to take it everywhere.

The crash should have killed him, not his father.

Blaine would never forget the screeching of metal, the shattering of glass and the look on his father's face as the light left his eyes for the last time. The wounds were still fresh, too fresh, but treading lightly around the subject only made it hurt more.

But he pushed those thoughts aside, heading for the showers. He indulged a little, letting the scalding water run over his muscles for more than he should have, the steam and the heat relaxing him from his grueling workout. Martin was relentless sometimes, and with such an important fight in mere months, he was pushing Blaine to his limits every day. His body was exhausted, broken but he knew it was necessary. He had to do this for not only himself, but his father, too.

He used to talk about his dreams with his father when he was younger. He wanted _so badly _to be just like him, to have the title, the recognition, the honor. His father was his mentor and his best friend, but when he died, Martin became like a second father to him. He'd known Martin most of his life – their fathers used to fight together as kids – and looked up to the man just as much.

Blaine left the showers twenty minutes later and went to find Martin for their usual post-training pep talks. He found him by the bags, instructing a boy who looked to be a few years younger than Blaine how to kick properly. He spotted Blaine and excused himself, heading over to the boy with a grin plastered on his face.

'Hey champion!' he greeted him, with another clap on the shoulder. Blaine smiled weakly at him.

'You shouldn't toss that word around,' he reprimanded lightly, 'you may end up jinxing me.'

Martin laughed then; a deep hearty chuckle.

'Jinx?' he repeated, his tone slightly incredulous, 'son, there is no way you can be jinxed. You're going to _win._ You're going to make it to the top.'

Blaine smiled properly at this, flattered by his coach's confidence in him. He leaned against the cage of the ring behind him.

'Do you believe you can do it?' Martin asked, suddenly eyeing him seriously.

Blaine didn't answer straight away. He was scared and nervous and he still had some tiny doubts in the back of his mind, but he believed in himself. He believed in his talent and he believed in the passion he felt for fighting. He nodded.

'I think so.' he replied softly, 'I really think I can do this.'

His competition was a seventeen year old boy named Alexei Rukovskaya, a Russian who was absolutely ruthless in his attacks. His ground game was spectacular, but from what Blaine had seen, he wasn't too flashy on his feet. Either way, this boy was bigger than him, probably stronger than him and would do whatever it took to get him on the ground.

Blaine's ground work needed a bit of tuning. He was quick on his feet – nearly all his fights ended with a kick to the head on his behalf – he was a kickboxer first and foremost, after all – and he was merciless with his punches, punishing his opponents with every blow.

Martin chose then to turn the subject away from fighting, 'so how do you feel about starting at McKinley tomorrow?'

Blaine shrugged and took a drink from his bottle, wiping his mouth after he did so.

'Partial to it,' he replied offhandedly, 'I mean, I'm going to miss Dalton like _hell_, especially my Warblers but… a new start would be nice.'

'At least people aren't going to give you trouble,' Martin winked, 'and who knows? You might find a nice guy while you're there.'

Blaine snorted at this, 'apart from Jeff and Nick, I think I'm the only openly gay teenage boy in Ohio. I'll save romance for when I move somewhere more… accepting.'

Martin frowned slightly, and Blaine knew he felt sorry for him. Sure, he got lonely sometimes, especially after hanging around Nick and Jeff for too long – the two had been dating for years and were fantastically happy with each other – but he had to focus on his fighting, and he had no place for a boyfriend in his life right now.

_Not that I could find one_, he thought bitterly, _I daresay anybody would be interested in me._

He was nervous about moving schools though. He'd had a horrible experience at Westerville High School before he'd transferred to Dalton Academy, being bullied constantly for his sexuality. Sure, he'd been able to fight them off quite easily – they'd underestimated him and pushed him around one too many times and he'd had just about enough of it – and he was apprehensive about returning to a public school. Apart from that, he'd lost his father and he was going to lose his friends in a very short space of time and he wasn't sure how well he'd be able to handle that.

But he was a fighter. He'd fought his way through a public school before – and that was at least two years ago, his fighting had improved dramatically since then – and he could do it again. He would do it for his mother and Martin and his father, who he knew was watching over him, proud no matter what he did.


	2. Chapter 2

Monday dawned bright and early, and Blaine felt the nerves of his transfer kick in more than ever.

He didn't want to draw attention to himself – that he had decided upon as soon he had learned he was moving. He didn't see why he had to anyway, but his mother couldn't handle Westerville after his father's death and he respected her. But at least he was moving to Lima, which was only a few hours away from Westerville. He'd still be able to train with Martin, even though his training schedule would have to be rearranged slightly.

He woke up at five that morning, opting to go for a run around his new neighborhood to shake off some of his nerves, but it was now past seven and he was sitting in front of his closet, at a loss at what to wear.

At Dalton, he'd had no trouble with outfits. He had a uniform during the week and he practically lived in his gym clothes after school and on weekends. However he didn't think a Dalton uniform or a tracksuit would do on the first day at a new school, so he simply sat there until his mother came along to see what the fuss was.

He looked a lot like his mother – she was only thirty five, and she was still beautiful, albeit nowadays her soft face was constantly heartbroken. He had her dark curls and her smoldering hazel eyes – everything else he'd inherited from his father. His mother smiled at him softly as she entered his room.

'What's wrong, sweetheart?' she asked, moving to stand next to him, peering inside his closet.

Blaine sighed, 'I don't know what to wear.'

Clarissa Anderson laughed at this; the first time Blaine had heard her laugh in too long. She moved in front of him and began to rummage through his closet, pulling out a pair of skinny jeans and a plain white v-neck t-shirt. She threw a leather jacket on top of the pile and handed him the clothes.

'Don't gel your hair today,' she advised, ruffling his hair, 'this isn't Dalton.'

He nodded, heeding her advice, and headed into his bathroom to change. He liked his new house – bought with old money left by his father in his will; it was comfortable and homely and even though Blaine knew it would never replace the home he'd grown up in, the house had a certain charm to it and he knew he'd be happy there.

McKinley was only about a ten minute drive from his house, so he hung around as much as possible, eating fruit and talking to his mother about his nerves and his expectations of his new school, but at 8:30, he decided he had to go.

He kissed his mother on the cheek and grabbed his school bag, heading for his car. It wasn't the beat up car he crashed in the summer, no. It was his father's BMW, the sleek, shiny car he'd had his heart set on for months. Now that his father was gone, his mother had given it to him. He bit his lip as he slid into the driver's seat – the car still smelt like his father.

He found the route to the school was pretty straightforward, and when he got there, he was pretty unimpressed. It wasn't up to Dalton's standards, no way, but it didn't look as bad as Westerville High. The school was already buzzing with people and he felt his stomach clench with nerves like it did before a big fight – what if no one talked to him? Or he was bullied again?

_Cut it out, Blaine_, he thought, shaking his head as he cut the engine, _you could beat anyone at this school, no matter how big they are._

He stepped out of his car and locked it behind him, trying not to let his nerves show.

_It's like a fight, Blaine. Don't let your opponents know your weaknesses._

So he ignored the curious looks and pulled out his schedule – he had English first, and he figured that he should probably look for his classroom now if he had any chance of finding it. But the school looked huge – even though it didn't look like much from the outside, and he knew he would have trouble finding it by himself.

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, turning his schedule over to find a map on the back. He was at the front of the school and his English room was somewhere near the middle, so he figured he could find it okay before the bell went. He entered McKinley for the first time and was met with utter chaos.

There were people _everywhere_. He saw cheerleaders – some giving him very interested looks, might he add – and jocks, band geeks and nerdy looking kids and everything in between, all milling around and talking and looking generally happy. Blaine felt uncomfortable and out of place, when suddenly, he saw a mass of hair rushing towards him.

'And here we appear to have a new student! Hello!' a nasally voice called, pushing through a group of cheerleaders, who looked affronted. Blaine raised his eyebrow at the boy – glasses, bushy hair and a determined expression on his face.

'The new student appears to be confused!' the boy announced, grabbing Blaine by the jacket and dragging him into the view of a camera. Blaine looked at him, shocked, and tried to wrench himself out of the grip of the boy.

'So, new boy,' the boy continued, ignoring Blaine's struggles, 'what are you doing here? Come to join the rat race that is McKinley? Or are you running from something more sinister?'

'I – uh…' Blaine started, genuinely confused, 'I transferred from Dalton…'

'You heard it here first, folks!' the boy interrupted, pushing in front of Blaine, 'the new boy couldn't afford tuition to Dalton and has now had to settle for subpar schooling here at McKinley.'

'What? No!' Blaine protested, 'that's not what I said at _all_. I didn't say anything and – and get _off _me!'

'Homophobic, too?' the boy asked curiously, though his words were directed at the camera, 'well, well, looks like the new boy won't be getting along with the school's more _flamboyant _community! Which we all know means he won't be getting along with _Lady Lips_. So you're a jock now?'

'I – what? No, I'm not.'

'But you _were_ a jock?'

'_No._'

'But you came here because –'

Blaine felt his patience snap, and he wrenched the boy off him, sending him sprawling. Though it was unintentional, he still felt satisfaction flood through him.

'_Don't_ touch me,' he ordered, 'I have _nothing _against gay people and I am _not _broke and I am _not _a jock. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a class to get to.'

He stalked away from the boy, vaguely hearing the boy shout, _'you heard it here first, McKinley! The new kid is a deranged psycho!'_

To his surprise, he heard a female voice shout back, 'shut up, Jew-fro; it's about time someone stood up to you and your creepy stalkerish filming.'

Blaine didn't turn to see who had spoken, but he did feel a small throb of reassurance that someone had already tried to stand up for him. He then realised that his English class wasn't hard to find at all, and he arrived with about five minutes to spare. He walked into the room and took a seat near the back, waiting.

The classroom filled up quickly, and he noticed people giving him looks as they entered, the girls lingering more than the boys, who just gave him a passing glance.

He drummed his fingers against the table softly, looking at the people as they walked in. He then saw a pretty Asian girl with pink streaks through her hair walk in with what had to be the most _gorgeous_ boy he'd ever seen in his life.

Tall, with flawless, pale skin and a pair of the most incredibly glasz eyes he'd ever seen, accompanied by perfectly coiffed chestnut hair, a soft face and an impeccable outfit, this boy had to have stepped off a runway – or out of heaven. Blaine saw the Asian girl whisper something to the boy, who looked over at Blaine and turned red immediately. Blaine bit his lip and looked away immediately, cursing himself for being so obvious.

The teacher strolled in then, and the boy and girl sat in the row in front of him, leaving Blaine on his own at the back. He didn't mind, and waited patiently through the roll call, knowing the teacher would notice him and make a big fuss over the new student.

Sure enough, she looked up as she'd finished marking and smiled widely at him.

'And we appear to have a new student in our class!' she announced to the room, 'hello, my name is Mrs. Hamilton! What's your name, where are you from?'

She seemed friendly, so Blaine shot her a small smile.

'Blaine Anderson,' he replied smoothly, 'I transferred from Dalton Academy.'

At this, a majority of the class turned to look at him, including the pretty Asian. The boy, he noticed, stared ahead determinedly, but his body was tense, as though he was willing himself not to look. The girl whispered in his ear again and he nudged her with his elbow, but he heard her snicker. Mrs. Hamilton then approached Blaine at the back, leaning over his desk slightly as she spoke as to not attract attention to him.

'We're just working on our novel analysis this class,' she told Blaine, smiling kindly, 'if you'd like, I'm sure Tina and Kurt would be glad to help you catch up to where we are. If you want to just move to the row in front of you…'

That was the row with the boy and her friend. Blaine resisted the urge to blush, but he nodded and collected his books and bag and moved next to the Asian girl. He sat down, clearing his throat awkwardly, and she turned and beamed at him.

'Oh hello! My name is Tina!' she told him brightly, 'this is my friend, Kurt. Say _hello_, Kurt.'

She dug her elbow into the side of the boy sitting next to her – Kurt – and he looked over at Blaine with flaming cheeks.

'Hello.' he muttered, before turning back to his book quickly. Tina rolled her eyes at him and turned back to Blaine.

'So you're from Dalton?' she asked, 'that's over in Westerville, isn't it? I think we're up against their show choir for Sectionals this year.'

'Show choir?' Blaine repeated, his mind snapping instantly to the Warblers. His chest ached dully – he missed them, 'you mean the Warblers? I was one of them before I came here.'

Tina squealed excitedly and dug her elbow back into Kurt's side, 'oh he _sings_, Kurt! He would have been our competition! Do you plan on joining the New Directions?'

Blaine hesitated – he loved to sing, and he had been the soloist for the Warblers, but he didn't know if he could betray his old friends like that… or if he could handle it along with his training. He shrugged.

'I'll consider it,' he replied slowly, 'but I make no promises.'

The girl smiled brilliantly at him and began to point out what chapter they were up to in their book, which was Macbeth – a book Blaine had read many times before.

He made small talk with Tina for the rest of the lesson, but noticed Kurt didn't say a word to him. He couldn't possibly have done something to make Kurt hate him already – though he couldn't really be sure.

The lesson finished rather quickly and he consulted his timetable, seeing he had Biology next. Tina had pointed out which direction the labs were, and he bid her a friendly goodbye, genuinely liking the girl. He arrived at Biology a little early and slid into the labs, where an attractive Latina girl sat talking to an equally good looking blonde, both wearing cheerleading uniforms.

At the sight of him, the Latina stopped talking and raked her eyes up Blaine's body, smirking slightly.

'So you must be the new boy I stood up for this morning.' she called over to him from the other side of the room, her smirk still in place, 'if I had known what you looked like, I would have done a _lot _more than stuck up for you. But perhaps you can stick something up for _me _in return for my generosity…'

Blaine blanched, looking at her incredulously. He opened his mouth to reply, but found he had no words. He'd never met someone so _upfront _in his life.

Though the Latina was still looking at him expectantly, so he pulled himself together.

'Not on your team, sorry,' he replied, trying to sound casual. The girl sighed loudly and collapsed back into her seat.

'The good ones are always gay,' she muttered mutinously, linking pinkies with the blonde girl sitting next to her, 'but if you change your mind, you can _totally _get up on this.'

Blaine nodded slowly, but turned to face the front of the classroom, which was filling up quickly. He kept his eyes peeled for Kurt, but saw he wasn't in his class. He felt a slight pang of disappointment, before mentally scolding himself.

_You don't even know if he's gay._

Biology passed rather uneventfully – it was just bookwork, even though it was a double period. He was alright at Biology and the questions weren't particularly hard, but it kept him well distracted from his thoughts, which kept wandering back to Kurt.

Then he had recess, and he truly was at a loss.

He didn't know where to go. Who to sit with.

The Latina wasn't really an option – she would probably try come on to him again. He couldn't see Tina anywhere, either, so he was on his own for recess.

But what he did know was that he had to eat and stick to his new diet plan, so he wandered around until he found the cafeteria, paid for a few apples, and took a seat at one of the vacant benches, pulling out a sandwich so full of vegetables that he felt like a rabbit just looking at it.

The food was bland, but added sodium was _not _an option, so he chewed his way through it without really paying attention to the taste. He simply scanned the room, taking in the various people, before a shadow loomed over him. He looked up and was faced with four boys, all in letterman jackets, all bigger than him. They didn't look friendly.

'That's our _seat_ you're sitting in, new kid.' the dark skinned one informed him, flexing his muscles in what he probably thought was a threatening manner. Blaine wasn't fazed.

'Well… there are other seats around you could sit in.' he replied casually, taking a bite of his apple. The dark skinned boy glared at him.

'I don't think you _understand_ what I'm saying.' he told Blaine slowly, as though speaking to a child, 'you sitting in my seat makes me _angry_, new kid. Who do you think you are? Coming to _my _school and disrespecting me.'

'Yeah man, don't mess with Azimio.' one of the boys behind them piped up. Blaine sighed.

'Last time I checked,' he snapped, 'this was _McKinley _High School. Not _Azimio _High. I hardly think this is your school.'

They were the kind of boys that bullied Blaine at his last school, and unlike then, this time he would _not _allow himself to be bullied. He was stronger, smarter and more experienced than any of these boys and he knew this for a fact. If they had as much fighting experience as him, he'd have encountered them in the ring by now.

Suddenly he was grabbed by the back of the collar and wrenched off the chair and shoved roughly by a light skinned boy with short brown hair and hazel eyes. He leered at Blaine.

'Listen, _kid,_ you'd better clear out unless you want us to _make _you leave.'

His voice was all threat and still, Blaine felt no fear. He'd fought guys like this – he'd _won._ He was as good out of the ring as he was in and he could defend himself.

'I don't know,' he replied, allowing himself to get cheeky, 'I didn't think whales could move that much once they'd been beached.'

There was an appreciative murmur from the people around him – he hadn't realised he'd attracted so much attention. The boy's eyes flashed and he started to raise his fist when something incredibly cold was dumped over Blaine's head by another one of the boys.

A slushee.

Blaine cursed and began to wipe it from his eyes, and the light skinned boy took this as an opportunity to take a swing at him. Blaine opened his eyes at the last second and didn't quite dodge the blow in time, wincing as it clipped him on the chin. It hurt, but he'd taken worse hits. It wasn't enough to knock him over at least.

But his first day at a new school and he'd already been attacked? It made him _angry._ Blaine stepped back, without a word or any sign of pain at the punch, and before the other boy could even blink, landed a solid kick to his head.

It was enough to knock the boy over, and enough to send a message to the other's to _back off._ He glowered at the other boys, stepping over the one he'd knocked down.

'I'll sit wherever the _fuck_ I want.' he spat, before grabbing his bag and storming out of the cafeteria.

He knew that being angry would get him absolutely nowhere, but he was seething. How could people be so cruel to others? They didn't even know him and they pranced around like they owned the world. He cursed under his breath and kept walking, not noticing the sound of footsteps behind him.

'Hey – hey, wait!'

The voice was slightly familiar and Blaine turned to see the boy from his English class, Kurt, hurrying towards him.

He stopped walking, but only because he was so shocked to see him. He looked at him curiously as he approached, noticing the boy was slightly out of breath from trying to catch up to him.

'That – that was _incredible_!' the boy gasped, hand pressing into his side, 'I haven't seen anyone stand up to Karofsky like that. To _any _of them. Where did you – where did you learn to do that?'

Blaine shrugged, 'I've been kickboxing and training in various types of mixed martial arts for about ten years now. Why?'

Kurt hesitated slightly before answering.

'I – Karofsky… he gives me a lot of trouble. A _lot_. Because – because well… because of who I am,' he made a sweeping gesture down his body and Blaine honestly could see nothing wrong with him, but let him continue, 'and – and seeing you do that… I was just wondering… can you teach me?'

Now Blaine hesitated. He really, _really _didn't have time to. He had to focus on his training and he _had _to focus on winning his championship fight.

But then again, this beautiful boy was hurting and he needed help. Blaine knew what it was like to be bullied. To be scared every day – he didn't wish that on anyone. So he nodded.

'Yeah.' he replied with a small smile, 'yeah, I'll teach you.'


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **The italics mean they're speaking French. I just didn't want to go on Google Translate and get something completely wrong.

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><p>The boy gave Kurt the most brilliant smile he'd ever seen, his eyes lighting up.<p>

'That's great!' he exclaimed, clearly satisfied, 'uh – what gym do you go to? Is it the one near the mall?'

Blaine shook his head, 'I still train in Westerville, it's about an hour and a half away from Lima.'

Kurt bit his lip and nodded slowly.

'Well… I don't know if my dad would be happy with me going all the way to Westerville on a school night…' he started, sounding contemplative. Blaine blanched.

'You – you wanted to start today?' he asked. He must have been desperate, or in a very bad situation. Kurt smiled at him again.

'No time like the present!' he reasoned, 'do you think we could uh, do it at your place? You live in Lima, right?'

Blaine nodded at the last part – but he was stuck. Was it too soon to bring someone home after just a few minutes of conversation? His mother would be pleased, at least. He did have the proper training equipment – he'd had it shipped over to his house and didn't plan on ever getting rid of it. He smiled at Kurt.

'Yeah, you can come over after school today.'

Another brilliant smile and Kurt was holding out his hand, 'well, I should give you my number and you can text me after your last class.

Blaine pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and unlocked it quickly, handing it to Kurt. Kurt stared at the wallpaper for a moment – a picture of Blaine, his father and Martin.

'Who are they?' he asked after a moment, smiling softly. Blaine bit his lip.

'The one with the shaved head, he's Martin, my trainer. The lighter haired man… he was my father.' Blaine replied softly. Kurt didn't miss the part where he said _was_, and tactfully avoided pressing.

'It's a nice picture,' he concluded, typing in his number and handing the phone back to Blaine with a smile, 'recess should be over soon… oh, _god_, the slushee. I can help you with that, if you want.'

Blaine suddenly remembered the icy slush that was still dripping from his head, staining through his t-shirt, making it cling to his skin. He shivered, suddenly aware of the cold.

'That would be nice,' he replied, resisting the urge to just shake the substance out of his hair – he'd probably ruin Kurt's outfit if he did.

'Come on, we can go to the girl's bathroom, none of the girls will care if we use it!'

Blaine must have been giving him an odd look because Kurt suddenly looked bashful.

'I – I'm sorry, I shouldn't just _assume_, uh – we can go to the boy's bathroom –'

Then it clicked. Kurt thought Blaine was gay.

'I am gay, you know,' he told him, giving him a half smile. Kurt's eyes widened and his cheeks tinged slightly.

'O-oh. That's cool. I – I'm gay, too.'

Resisting the urge to grin like a maniac, Blaine simply nodded and allowed Kurt to drag him to the boy's bathrooms.

'Alright, you just… try was your hair, and I have a spare shirt in my locker for occasions like this. The shirt might be a bit tight but…'

'It'll do,' Blaine smiled warmly at him, touched by his generosity. He turned the tap on and immediately stripped his jacket and shirt off, not wanting to get them even wetter.

Kurt's cheeks flushed immediately and Blaine noticed he was staring and couldn't help but feel slightly amused, and a little proud.

'I – uh… yeah. I'll just – just go. And get it. The shirt, I mean.' Kurt babbled, practically sprinting from the room.

Then again, perhaps Kurt had just felt uncomfortable and wasn't flustered at all.

_God, Blaine, _he mentally scolded himself, dipping his head under the stream of water, _you can't just announce that you're gay and then get half naked in front of what's possibly the only gay guy at McKinley._

He made short work of washing his hair, turning on the hand dryer and shaking his head under it in an attempt to dry it. The door opened and then shut and he looked up, seeing Kurt – still a little pink – holding out a plain olive colored v-neck.

'I hope it'll do,' he smiled hopefully at Blaine, who took the shirt gratefully. He slipped it on and it was a little tight, but the color went nicely with his eyes and his skin. He put on his jacket and then went to one of the stalls and grabbed some toilet paper to wipe the remainder of the slushee off of it.

'Thank you so much!' he grinned at Kurt, who smiled bashfully.

'It's no problem at all,' he replied offhandedly, 'you can make up for it in fighting lessons.'

The bell rang then and they both looked a little put out – Blaine liked being around Kurt already. He seemed like an incredible person.

_And he's gay_.

'What do you have now?' Kurt asked, and Blaine pulled his schedule out of his jeans pocket, groaning as he saw what he had.

'French,' he muttered, 'I am _hopeless _at French.'

'Oh, you're with me!' Kurt beamed, looking over Blaine's shoulder at his schedule, 'it's my best subject! Here, I'll take you to the class.'

They chattered casually as they walked, and Blaine marveled at how easy it was to talk to him. Kurt talked about his family, his friends, his glee club – which sounded _very _dramatic – and his general plans for when he finished school. Blaine didn't talk as much as Kurt, preferring to listen to him talk.

'So you were a Warbler?' Kurt asked as they rounded a corner.

Blaine shrugged, 'I was the soloist for two years, then I came here.'

Kurt's eyes widened and he looked impressed.

'That's amazing! You should totally join the New Directions.'

Blaine hesitated, 'I don't think I have time to, training is taking up all my time nowadays.'

'Oh? Do you normally train that much then?'

Blaine shook his head, a determined look crossing his face.

'No,' he replied, 'but my title fight is coming up. There's just one person stopping me from becoming a featherweight champion, and I intend to take him down.'

'That's impressive,' Kurt commented, raising an eyebrow, 'so you're really passionate about fighting then.'

'It's all I've ever wanted to do.'

They reached their French classroom then and took a seat at the back. Their teacher, Ms Bourgualt, was an attractive young woman whose English was laced with a heavy French accent, already making it hard to understand her, but when she stared jabbering away in French, Blaine felt as though someone had smacked him over the head with a frying pan – he didn't understand at _all._

In fact, the only person who seemed to understand her was Kurt, who chattered to her quite happily in fluent French. Ms Bourgualt then noticed Blaine and made her way over to him, talking rapidly in French.

'_You must be our new student, welcome to my class! What is your name?' _she asked. Blaine blinked at her, his mouth dropping open a little. He had no idea what she had said to him.

'_His name is Blaine Anderson, _Kurt replied quickly, shooting him a smile, _he is a transfer student from Dalton Academy. I don't think his French is very good, though.'_

Ms Bourgualt gave a tinkling laugh and smiled at Blaine, '_make sure you teach him then, Mr. Hummel. You are my star pupil, after all.'_

She smiled at both of them kindly and walked away. Blaine turned to Kurt and looked at him, confused.

'Um, what was that?' he asked slowly. Kurt laughed.

'She just wanted to know who you were,' he replied, 'and I mentioned your French wasn't the best so she told me to help you and that's about it.'

Blaine frowned slightly, nodding. Kurt smiled at him and looked down to the worksheet he was meant to be working on, translating phrases easily.

Blaine ignored his and tapped his pencil against his desk for the rest of lesson, which passed pretty quickly. Kurt seemed to be pretty into French, and Blaine thought that it was sort of beautiful. He was fluent in Italian and he wished they taught it at McKinley.

'Are you French at all?' he asked Kurt as they packed their things up. Kurt shook his head and smiled.

'I just think the language is beautiful,' he replied easily, 'and I had too much time on my hands. To lunch? You can meet some of my friends.'

Blaine nodded, glad he wouldn't be sitting alone. He wouldn't put it past the jocks to try and get him back for attacking one of them.

Kurt didn't take him to the cafeteria, but to what appeared to be a choir room. In the choir room already sat Tina, the girl from his English class, a dark skinned girl who grinned at Kurt as they walked in, a small brunette who was sitting with a what appeared to be a very, very tall brunette boy, and the blonde girl from his Biology class.

'Blaine, these are my friends – Tina, you've met her, that's Mercedes over there –' the dark skinned girl waved at him cheerily, 'this is Rachel, and my stepbrother Finn, and the blonde is Brittany. Guys, this is Blaine. He's from Dalton.'

'I know you,' the blonde girl commented, sitting cross legged on the floor with a cupcake in hand, 'you're the one Santana tried to get her mack on with.'

Kurt rolled his eyes and exhaled heavily, 'already? God, I thought she had more sense than that.'

'Well, she did stick up for me this morning when some boy with a camera accosted me.' Blaine reasoned, following Kurt to one of the empty seats. He pulled out his lunch – another vegetable filled salad, at least with some grilled chicken this time, and started to eat.

'That looks really nice,' Kurt commented. He was eating an apple and looking at Blaine's lunch longingly. Blaine scoffed.

'No dressing… no salt…' he grimaced, 'it's so _bland_.'

Kurt cocked his head to the side curiously, 'why don't you have any salt or dressing?'

Blaine swallowed his mouthful; it felt like swallowing cardboard.

'Ugh, my coach put me on this new diet so I would maintain my weight for the fight.'

'Wait, what? You have to weigh a specific amount?' Kurt asked, taking another bite of his apple. Blaine nodded.

'I have to weigh between 145 and 155lbs. If I weigh any more, I'll move up a weight class and I won't be able to fight for the title.' Blaine explained around another mouthful of his salad. He honestly couldn't wait to just get this fight over and done with – this rabbit food was leaving him constantly starving.

'You're a fighter?' the tall boy, Finn, suddenly piped up, sounding impressed, 'so that's where you learned to kick like that. That was pretty impressive, the thing at recess.'

Then the brunette he was sitting with turned to Blaine.

'I, for one, thought it was an incredibly risky move.' she told him matter-of-factly, 'such a stunt could have not only landed you in the principal's office, but confirmed Jacob's suspicions that you were some sort of psycho. The student body would have hated you.'

'That's enough, Rachel,' Kurt snapped, turning to Blaine, 'excuse her, she has this tendency to speak when no one really wants her opinion. They started it and you had every right to defend yourself.'

Blaine nodded slowly, the brunette girl looking rather sheepish. She was right, though. He shouldn't have resorted to violence; he just had no control over his temper sometimes.

'I can't imagine you like McKinley now,' Mercedes, the dark skinned girl piped up, 'now that you've seen exactly how rude some of the people here are.'

'Some of them, yeah,' Blaine agreed, 'but the rest of the people seem friendly.'

'Like us!' Tina grinned, as another Asian boy walked through, 'Mike!'

Mike grinned at her, holding his arms out and she rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around him. He saw Blaine and his smile widened.

'Nice kick today, man.' he commented, sounding impressed, 'you must be Blaine. People are talking about you.'

Blaine felt his stomach churn uncomfortable, 'why?'

'Because,' Mike replied, releasing his girlfriend, 'your kick was all _whoa!_'

As he spoke, he kicked his leg up in imitation of what Blaine had done, easily reaching the same height, though his kick was a lot more fluid and graceful than Blaine's was.

'Fighter?' Blaine asked, nodding in approval of his kick. Mike grinned.

'Dancer,' he corrected, pulling Tina back into his arms, 'anyway, it's not like they're saying bad things. People here are impressed easily – and Karofsky has one _hell _of a bruise on his head now. I think they're a little intimidated by you.'

'He's going to teach me how to do that,' Kurt announced to the room at large, sounding pleased. Finn looked over at him skeptically.

'Will that go down well with Burt?' he asked, 'isn't fighting… dangerous?'

The last part was directed at Blaine, who nodded grudgingly.

'Well, yeah…' he conceded, shrugging, 'if you don't know what you're doing, it can be dangerous. I don't want Kurt to use it _offensively_. Just for defense. I don't really condone fighting out of the cage.'

'Which is why you knocked Karofsky off his feet?' Mercedes winked, 'don't worry, Warrior, I'm glad Kurt's going to learn how to take care of himself.'

Kurt smiled at her and the rest of lunch passed breezily, filled with talk and laughter and Blaine was honestly starting to feel like he was actually accepted.

'Are you a dolphin?' the blonde girl, Brittany, on the floor asked him suddenly. He saw Kurt facepalm out of the corner of his eye.

'I'm sorry… what?'

'A dolphin!' Brittany repeated cheerfully, making little tears in her cupcake wrapper, 'dolphins are just gay sharks, you know.'

'Um… I don't know.' Blaine replied honestly. He had no idea what she was talking about; she vaguely reminded him of some adorable overgrown kindergartener.

'But you didn't want to kiss Santana,' she argued, 'so that must make you a dolphin.'

'She's trying to ask if you're gay.' Kurt told him, sounding exasperated. Blaine's eyes widened.

'Oh! Oh, well… yeah. I am a dolphin.'

Mercedes let out a disappointed groan, which Blaine raised his eyebrows at in amusement. He'd noticed girls staring at him all day, and honestly, it was something he wasn't really used to – at Dalton there weren't actually many gay people, and his days at Westerville were spent being taunted about his sexuality; no girls would bother with him. Not that he minded, of course, but the attention he was receiving today caught him off guard then.

Luckily the bell went then and he checked his schedule, seeing he had math. He looked a little worried; he didn't want to be stuck by himself the whole lesson. Finn then looked at him, smiling kindly.

'What do you have, bro? I can take you there if you want.'

Blaine smiled gratefully and when he told him he had math, his eyes lit up.

'Cool!' Finn grinned, 'you have that class with me and Puck!'

He said goodbye to the others in the room, smiling at Kurt for perhaps a fraction too long, and followed Finn to his next class.

Finn, he realised, was one of those people who may not have been book smart, or very logical, but he made up for it by having one of the biggest hearts Blaine had ever encountered. From the moment they'd left the room Finn had looped an arm over his shoulder and began rambling about absolutely everything. He was the quarterback of the football team, the lead male soloist of the glee club and an avid gamer. He and Blaine found that they actually had a lot in common – while Blaine didn't play football, he was a big fan, he was also a soloist and he loved gaming in his free time. By the time they reached his math class, they were talking animatedly about anything that came up.

Finn then spotted one of his friends; a broad shouldered, mohawked boy by the name of Puck who grinned at Blaine appreciatively.

'Hey, Warrior,' he greeted him, patting the seat next to him, 'saw your big stunt this morning, _very _badass.'

Blaine smiled at him and shrugged, and they ignored the teacher completely as they struck up a conversation. Blaine figured these two were your typical bros; good, friendly, loyal guys whom he would love to be friends with. They reminded him a bit of the boys from Dalton and he felt a pang of nostalgia.

Math came easy to him, and he helped Finn and Puck get through the work quickly so that they had more time to talk. Puck was a lot like Finn, only more 'badass'. He also appeared to be very impressed with Blaine's fighting skills.

'I don't need any training though.' he told Blaine, 'I got my guns right here.'

He tensed his muscles and Blaine laughed, knowing he was joking. Puck was a football player after all, and he had to be built well in order to play well.

Math passed quickly, and Blaine was surprised at how fast the day had gone. The final bell rang and as he gathered his things, he finally remembered he had to text Kurt.

To get him to come over. To his house.

He felt a little nervous at the prospect, but pulled out his phone and sent off a quick text.

_Hey, do you still want to come over this afternoon?- Blaine_

The reply was almost instantaneous, and he smiled at the text as if came back.

_Of course! Meet me at the front, I'll just follow you in my car. - K_

He said a quick goodbye to Puck and Kurt, with promises to add them on Facebook, and practically bolted to the front of the school. As he reached the front, he next to the door casually. He could see the four jocks from recess staring him down, but he knew they wouldn't dare try anything. Even from where he was standing he could see the bruise he'd given the Karofsky fellow.

Kurt emerged a few minutes later with Tina and Mercedes, the three of them talking in hushed voices excitedly. Kurt looked around for Blaine and when he spotted him behind them, he went slightly pink and the girls giggled, dragging him over to Blaine.

'We trust you'll take good care of our Kurt,' Tina giggled, releasing Kurt's arm. He glared at her.

'I assure you, I'll return him in one piece.' Blaine replied sincerely, smiling charmingly at them. This set the girls off again, and they quickly said goodbye and left them.

'So where's your house?' Kurt asked as they began to walk. Blaine thought carefully for a second.

'Um… well it's close…' he replied slowly, 'like ten minutes away. You go down that… main road and… turn…'

Honestly, he was a little confused when it came to driving back. Kurt laughed lightly.

'What if you gave me the address and I got my Sat-nav to take me there?' he asked, still smiling.

His house, apparently, was a few streets away from Kurt's, which seemed to excite him to no end.

'This means I'll be able to come over lots for training!' he explained cheerily, heading for his car, 'I'll see you in a bit, Blaine!'

And he was gone. Blaine shook his head and smiled heading towards his own car.

* * *

><p>'Mum, I'm just warning you now, but I'm having a friend come over.' Blaine announced as he walked into the kitchen. His mother was stirring some kind of sauce and she looked at him curiously.<p>

'A friend?' she repeated, 'one of the Dalton boys?'

'No, someone from McKinley,' Blaine replied, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the table, 'I – uh … ran into some trouble at school today and had to resort to… you know, violence… to get myself out of it, and the boy saw and he wants me to teach him. He's been bullied by those same guys because he's gay and I can't allow myself to suffer.'

But Clarissa had narrowed her eyes at him.

'Oh, _Blaine_,' she sighed, running a hand through her curls, 'it was your first day, how could you _possibly _get into a fight?'

Blaine explained the situation to her quickly, how he _hadn't _started it and how he was only reacting in self defense. Clarissa wasn't very impressed, but she was grateful her son knew how to protect himself. She turned back to her sauce and tried to sound casual.

'So, who's your friend?'

Blaine knew that attempt at offhand and he knew how much his mother wished he wasn't alone. His parents were completely supportive of whatever he chose to do, and the same went with his sexuality. They hadn't had a problem with him being gay and his coming out had gone as smoothly as it possibly could.

He sighed, running his hand through his hair as he sat at the counter.

'His name is Kurt,' Blaine replied, and then a small smile crossed his lips, 'he's beautiful.'

His mother smiled at him and there was a knock at the door. Blaine stood up and wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans and went to answer the door.

Kurt stood there, smiling breathlessly at him. Blaine grinned right back.

'I see you found the place okay,' he started, stepping back to let Kurt in, 'please, come in.'

Kurt stepped over the threshold and whistled lowly, 'this is a _really_ nice house.'

'Thank you. Um, did you have clothes to train in?' Blaine asked, noticing Kurt wearing the same outfit from before. Kurt looked down.

'What's wrong with the clothes I'm wearing now?' he asked, clearly confused. Blaine raised his eyebrows.

'You're going to get sweaty,' he replied slowly, 'and you won't have much range of motion in jeans like that…'

Kurt bit his lip, 'do you have clothes I can borrow?'

Blaine nodded and led him through the kitchen, mainly because he knew his mother would want to meet him.

'Oh, hello sweetie!' Clarissa smiled, and Blaine was pleased to see it was genuine, 'my name is Clarissa, I'm Blaine's mother! You must be Kurt!'

Kurt nodded and smiled widely, 'it's wonderful to meet you, ma'am. You have a beautiful home.'

Clarissa's smile stretched.

'Aren't you sweet? Call me Clarissa, please.'

'Alright, Clarissa,' Kurt replied, 'thank you for letting me over.'

'Oh, it's not a problem at all, honey.'

'Well… we're going to go up to my room so I can get Kurt something to wear and um, we're going to be using the bag at the back.' Blaine told his mother, motioning for Kurt to follow.

'Alright, sweetheart, let me know if you need anything.'

Blaine led Kurt from the room and Kurt turned to him, smiling.

'Your mother is lovely,' he commented as they climbed the stairs, 'she seems so happy.'

'She does… it's been a while since I've seen her like that…' Blaine confessed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, 'since… you know, dad died… she's been a little… yeah.'

Kurt nodded, completely understanding. He remembered how hard it was for his father when his mother had died.

'This is my room.' Blaine announced, pushing open a door. The room was tastefully decorated, the walls covered in posters, and there were a number of musical instruments lying around; three guitars, a violin, and a keyboard was propped up against a wall.

'You play all that?' Kurt asked incredulously, stepping into the room.

'I love to play,' Blaine told him, 'it's all I do when I'm not training.'

Kurt smiled at him, 'you'll have to play for me sometime then.'

Blaine felt his cheeks darken and he nodded.

'Yeah. I guess I'll have to,' he agreed, turning to his closet and rummaging for clothes, 'alright, here. I'm sorry, they're a bit old but I think they'll fit you okay…'

He passed Kurt a pair of gym shorts and a tank top, and then pointed out the bathroom to him. He grabbed his usual training clothes and went to the bathroom down the hall, changing quickly.

By the time he was out, Kurt was sitting on his bed, waiting patiently. Seeing him sat there so casually made Blaine's heart hammer in his chest a little faster.

'You, uh, ready to go?' he asked. Kurt nodded and shot him another brilliant smile.

'Lead the way!'

* * *

><p>'Okay, so you're going to have to turn your leading foot like <em>this<em>,' Blaine demonstrated slowly, 'and then you're gonna want to rotate your hips into the kick, because that's where most of the power comes from. So it'll work out something like this.'

He kicked the bag expertly and sent the whole thing shaking. Sure, he may have been showing off a little, but he couldn't help himself – Kurt was looking at him with pure admiration and he had to admit that it felt pretty good.

'So I – uh, do that again?' Kurt requested, arms folded across his chest as he watched carefully. Blaine quickly kick the bag again, hitting it a little harder than before.

'I have to admit, that is _so_ impressive.' Kurt admitted, 'but I want to try now. Talk me through it?'

Kurt was surprisingly flexible, which meant that teaching him would be a lot easier than Blaine thought it would be. He went through the steps slowly, but after a few tries he still wasn't getting it right.

'This is hopeless!' Kurt whined, 'I can't do the hip thing – I don't get how to turn them right. Help?'

'I – uh…' Blaine stammered, and he could feel his cheeks going red, 'um, yeah. Sure.'

He stood behind Kurt and placed his hands ever so gently on his hips.

'Alright, try kick now.' he told him softly, his breath tickling Kurt's ear. Kurt froze for a moment and inhaled deeply, before trying the kick. Instead, Blaine tightened his grip and twisted his hips in the right direction. Kurt glanced at him over his shoulder and as their eyes met, Blaine felt his hands begin to tingle on Kurt's hips.

'See… it's a lot more powerful this way.' he told him, stepping away quickly, trying to ignore the burning in his hands.

Kurt nodded wordlessly and tried again, this time landing the kick a lot better than he had before. A proud grin crossed his face.

'Try it again,' Blaine urged, feeling rather proud of him. Kurt kicked, harder this time, and the bag shook a little, 'well done, Kurt! You're a fast learner.'

'Karofsky won't know what hit him.' Kurt replied through gritted teeth, kicking it again, 'this really hurts my foot!'

Blaine frowned, 'kick again, let me see what you're doing wrong.'

Kurt kicked again and Blaine smiled.

'Hit it with the top of your foot, not the side,' he instructed, 'it's a flatter surface and it absorbs impact better. That also means you're not twisting your hips correctly, so you might want to turn them a bit more.'

Kurt tried again and again and after a few more tries, was kicking rather solidly. He shot Blaine a wonderful smile.

'You're such a great teacher!' he told him, his eyes lighting up. Blaine felt his stomach churn – with what, he didn't know – but he felt very proud of Kurt.

'What else can you teach me?'

'Do you maybe want to spar?' Blaine asked hesitantly, 'I mean, we don't have to but I have gloves and I'll go easy on you…'

Kurt actually looked rather eager at the idea.

'Sure!' he replied happily, 'I'd love to know what it's like to get into an actual fight.'

Blaine hid a smile – it wouldn't be a real fight at _all _– but he went to find his gloves anyway. He tossed a pair to Kurt and waited until the boy put them on and then went over to the grassed area of his backyard.

'Don't go easy on me!' Kurt requested, smiling happily, 'I wanna know what it's really like!'

Blaine winced.

'I don't think I should,' he replied honestly, 'I don't want to hurt you.'

'You won't! I can take it!'

Blaine sighed – he wouldn't go _all _out, of course. But perhaps Kurt really could take something away from being roughened up; perhaps the fact that fighting was _not _what he thought it was, and that it was actually rather dangerous.

He assumed his fighting stance and tried not to chuckle as Kurt attempted to copy him.

'Alright, touch gloves,' he told him, holding out a gloved hand. Kurt tentatively hit his hand against Blaine's, 'and so the fight begins!'

He threw a weak punch in Kurt's direction and the boy dodged it easily, and Blaine could already tell his ego was inflating. He threw a few more punches – deliberately slow – and Kurt dodged those too, finally throwing his own punch which collided with Blaine's cheek.

And that's when Kurt started to get cocky.

'I thought you were good at fighting,' he taunted, hopping around confidently, dodging another deliberately weak punch, 'I thought this was your _dream_, Blaine! Come on, is that all you got?'

Blaine gritted his teeth and tried to not get angry – Kurt was kidding, he knew he was, but he was still a little sensitive when people insulted his fighting.

'Come _on_, Blaine!' came another jeer, and another hit to Blaine's face. It didn't hurt, but clearly Kurt thought it did.

'This is easy! It's like fighting a child!'

Another hit.

'To chase your dreams you have to have _talent_, Blaine!'

Another hit.

'You said you've been training for like ten years! Where? In your dreams?'

That's when Blaine reached the end of his patience. He dodged another punch easily and quickly snapped his leg up in an aggressive body kick.

Kurt had the wind knocked out of him. He grabbed his side and gasped as the breath left his body. He sunk down onto his knees and Blaine felt guilt wash over him. He shouldn't have kicked him. He wasn't a professional. He didn't have any training and he didn't know how to defend himself.

'Shit – Kurt!' Blaine rushed forward and kneeled next to Kurt, 'I'm so sorry, oh my god! I shouldn't have – I didn't mean to kick you that hard! I –'

But whatever he was about to say was cut off by a sharp punch to the nose.

He cried out and covered his nose with his hand, checking to see if there was any blood. There wasn't, but when he looked back at Kurt the boy was smirking at him.

'Teaches you to knock the wind out of me,' he snapped, though Kurt could tell he was joking. He laughed at that then, and helped Kurt to his feet.

'I think that's enough for today, anyway,' Kurt announced, stretching, 'I didn't know training was actually that hard.'

Blaine laughed, 'Kurt, that was _not _training. Come to Westerville one day, I'll show you what training really is.'

Kurt smirked at him again.

'I'll have to take you up on that offer.'

They went back inside, stopping at the kitchen to drink copious amounts of water, and then Kurt retrieved his clothes from Blaine's room.

'Do you mind if I just give you these tomorrow?' he asked, gesturing at the clothes he was wearing, 'I'll wash them and everything, they're probably sweaty.'

Blaine didn't mind, of course, and soon he was walking Kurt to his car, leaning on the window as Kurt sat at the wheel.

'Thanks for taking the time out to do this,' Kurt smiled, drumming his fingers against the wheel, 'apart from the nasty bruise I'm going to develop, I had a lot of fun.'

'Me too,' Blaine replied, a smile on his own face, 'we'll have to do it again.'

'I'm still coming to Westerville one day.'

Blaine nodded and stepped back from the window, 'I'll see you tomorrow then?'

'Yeah.' Kurt grinned at him, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

With that, he started his engine and drove off into the twilight. Blaine stood there for a while after he'd left, arms wrapped around his body, trying to ignore the giddy feeling he'd had when Kurt had promised to see him tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning Blaine spent a little extra time in front of the mirror, something he normally never did.

'Who are you trying to impress, baby?' his mother asked, poking her head through the doorway, a smirk on her lips. She sounded chipper, but Blaine could see the bags under her eyes and knew she hadn't slept again that night.

'No one,' he replied offhandedly, running his hand through his hair and observing the effect. His mother chuckled and walked over to him, smoothing his hair down.

'Don't try so hard,' she advised fondly, 'it shows, honey.'

Blaine nodded and left his hair as it was – she was right, of course. He was just going to school. He had nothing – or _no one – _to look flashy for.

He dressed casually and then packed his clothes for training into a separate bag – he would be going to Westerville after school to train with Martin. Honestly, he was looking forward to it. After his day at school yesterday, he needed to fight properly to get the anger out of his system.

His phone vibrated in his pocket as he headed down the stairs and he pulled it out, seeing a message from Kurt. Suppressing a grin, he unlocked his phone and opened the text.

_Are you at school yet? No one else is here and I'm bored. :( x – K_

Blaine's eyes widened at the message – Kurt certainly seemed friendly. He'd also included an 'x' at the end of his message. What was that supposed to mean?

Either way, he decided to go and meet up with Kurt. He grabbed an apple – it seemed as though that was the only type of food he ate these days – and said a quick goodbye to his mother.

_I'm on my way. – B _

His finger hovered over the 'x' key, and he decided to not add it at the end. He didn't want to come on too strong or scare Kurt off, even though he'd been the one to send it first.

_He's probably just being friendly, Blaine. Stop over thinking things._

But he did drive to McKinley a little faster than he should have; the prospect of spending some time alone with Kurt did seem rather appealing.

_Where are you? – B_

_Choir room. x – K_

Blaine bit his lip at the text as he cut his engine. He felt bad now, for not putting in that stupid little x. He decided he would reply – though it wasn't really necessary – just to be able to put the x at the end.

_I'll be there in a few. – B x_

He smiled proudly and stepped out of his car, locking it behind him. He vaguely remembered where the choir room was and set off at a brisk pace.

It was only around twenty past eight; a lot earlier than he'd come yesterday. He should have been eating a proper breakfast and sticking to his diet – he knew Martin would chew him for it later – but he would have rather hung out with his new friend.

When he did eventually reach the choir room, he saw Kurt sitting by himself, looking – if possible – more breathtaking than the day before. Kurt smiled at him and patted the seat next to the one he was sitting in. Blaine walked over and sat down, smiling at him.

'How are you, Blaine?' Kurt asked as soon as he sat. Blaine felt his smile widen.

'Pretty good, actually,' he replied happily, 'what about you? Does your side hurt at all?'

Kurt winced, 'it does, actually. I have this absolutely killer bruise, too. I shouldn't have insulted your fighting! I'm really sorry about that, by the way.'

Blaine shrugged the apology off, though he felt absolutely horrible about hurting Kurt. He knew he shouldn't have let his temper get the better of him – it was something that almost always cost him in the cage; fighting while angry clouded his brain and he made stupid, rash decisions.

'So tell me about this title fight of yours.' Kurt requested, cocking his head to the side and smiling sweetly at Blaine. Blaine's heart thudded a little harder than it should have.

'Well, it's in March next year,' Blaine replied, 'so four months away from now. Uh… it's against this Russian guy, Alexei, and he's… scary. I don't think he's ever lost a fight.'

'Well, he's about to.'

Blaine blinked at Kurt's words. Kurt just smiled encouragingly at him, waiting for him to continue.

'I – I don't like to pretend I've won,' Blaine told him softly, 'it revs you up too much, gets you too cocky. You don't want that before a fight.'

'Why? What's wrong with confidence?'

Blaine shrugged, 'when you're too confident, you don't fight your best. You assume you've already won so you slack of a little. It's better to be humble when it comes to fighting – when you _know _you have to fight your heart out, when you _really_ have to push for it, _that's _when you perform at your peak.'

Kurt nodded slowly.

'That makes sense,' he agreed, looking contemplative, 'perhaps I should incorporate that into my glee club auditions. I don't really win any – they all go to Rachel.'

'What's your range?' Blaine asked. Truthfully, he couldn't imagine Kurt as a tenor.

'Countertenor,' Kurt replied, and Blaine could hear the pride in his voice. Either way, he was impressed.

'We hadn't had a countertenor in like, three years when I was a Warbler,' he told Kurt, whose smile grew at his words, 'that's really, really special.'

Kurt beamed at that, 'would you like me to sing you something?'

Blaine nodded eagerly, and Kurt stood with a flourish, never one to turn down an opportunity to perform.

_Made a wrong turn,_

_once or twice_

_Dug my way out  
>Blood and fire<br>Bad decisions  
>That's alright<br>Welcome to my silly life,_

Blaine resisted the urge to let his mouth drop to the floor – Kurt had an absolutely _beautiful _voice. It was clear and high and pure and Blaine couldn't imagine why that Rachel girl got more solos than him. His voice was incredible.

He listened to the rest of the song in complete awe; there was no way in hell he was that good at singing. Kurt completely shattered his confidence in Blaine's own voice, and somehow, he didn't care.

Kurt sung the chorus as beautifully as the first verse and Blaine just couldn't hold in his praise anymore.

'Kurt,' he started honestly, 'you make me sound like a dying cat. You are _so _talented.'

Kurt scoffed, 'don't be ridiculous. Do you know the song? Sing with me.'

Blaine hesitated slightly.

'I'm going to make myself look like an idiot.'

Kurt rolled his eyes, 'just sing, Blaine.'

Blaine bit his lip and began the next verse tentatively, not looking at Kurt's reaction. After a few more moments, he began to feel the thrill of singing and he closed his eyes, belting the song out properly.

When he opened his eyes, Kurt was staring at him, looking caught between jealousy and admiration.

'Is there anything you _can't _do, Blaine?' he asked him breathlessly. There was a moment of silence between them before they both picked up the chorus in perfect unison.

_Pretty, pretty please_

_Don't you ever, ever feel,_

_Like you're less than,_

_Less than perfect,_

_Pretty, pretty please  
>If you ever, ever feel<br>Like you're nothing  
>You are perfect to me<em>

Blaine had to admit that their voices sounded amazing together. They finished the chorus and simply smiled at each other.

'You have an amazing voice, Kurt,' Blaine told him, breaking the silence after a moment.

'So do you, Blaine,' Kurt replied sincerely, still amazed at how smooth and perfect Blaine's voice had sounded, 'you _have _to join the New Directions.'

The idea seemed more and more appealing every time it was mentioned.

'Maybe,' Blaine relented, 'possibly.'

Kurt gave an excited squeal and sat back in his chair.

'Perhaps if you did, Mr. Schuester would realize that the world of talent doesn't revolve around Rachel and he'd showcase me and you,' Kurt said happily, clapping his hands together, 'she is annoying, but she does have an amazing voice.'

They talked about Kurt's glee club in more detail – Rachel's tantrums, the constant break ups and drama, how they all hated each other one second and then banded together the next, Sue Sylvester's mission to end them permanently. Blaine thought it sounded amazing – more interesting than the Warblers, at least, who were known to get into arguments over things as bland as piping on jackets. Though they were stuffy and boring when they were in meetings, they were insane out of them, and Blaine was yet to understand how that worked.

The bell sounded then, and Kurt looked up, surprised.

'Wow, time flies,' he commented, 'I didn't realize we'd been here so long. Oh, are we doing the training thing after school?'

Blaine winced, 'I'm going to Westerville, I'm sorry.'

Kurt actually looked slightly put out.

'Oh, that's okay then.'

For some reason, Blaine felt guilty – as though he was ditching him.

'Perhaps it's better that way,' Blaine reasoned quickly, 'you should let that bruise heal up before you try fighting again.'

Kurt nodded understandingly.

'I guess you're right,' he smiled, 'walk you to class?'

Blaine nodded, glad he had Kurt to rely on now. To his surprise, Kurt took his hand and practically dragged him from the choir room.

He was beginning to think he'd really enjoy his time at McKinley.

* * *

><p>The bag shook violently with every anger-driven kick. Blaine Anderson was <em>pissed<em>, and his barrage of kicks and punches on the bag were ruthless. Martin watched, torn between feeling horrified and impressed, as his trainee continued to attack the bag.

'Alright, alright, _calm down_, Blaine!' Martin called, coming over to hold the bag still. Blaine growled and gave the bag one last savage kick before he backed off, looking furious.

'What's the matter with you?' Martin asked, starting to feel a little concerned, 'you've been angry since you came here.'

Blaine was angry.

Blaine was absolutely _furious_.

He'd had a good morning, sure. But then he hadn't had Kurt in any of his classes that day. But he _did _have at least one of the four jocks from yesterday in each. And they hadn't left him alone the whole time.

So he'd spent his day desperately trying to reign in his temper as he had slurs, spit balls and insults hurled at him in every lesson. He knew he couldn't retaliate – not in class, anyway. Then at lunch Azimio had slusheed him – the _second _time in two days – and he'd had to borrow another shirt from Kurt, which meant another awkward bathroom encounter. But what had pissed him off most of all was when at the end of the day he had walked to his car, his _father's _car, and saw the word 'fag' keyed into the side.

He saw red.

Truthfully, he had no idea how he'd even managed to get to Westerville without crashing. His hands were trembling with rage – he wanted to break each and every one of those stupid jocks.

He'd had it with bullying – he thought he was done with that _years _ago. But Dalton had inevitably sheltered him with its zero tolerance bullying policy and he had forgotten just how cruel regular Ohio kids could be.

And it made him so, so angry.

So as soon as he had reached the gym, he had changed and found the nearest punching bag to assault. He hadn't even said hello to Martin – a first for him.

'I am _so _pissed off,' Blaine replied through gritted teeth, eyeing the punching bag, wanting to go back. He didn't want to talk.

'Is it school? Tell me what's wrong, Blaine.'

So Blaine told him about the harassment he'd received at school that day, and Martin frowned at him.

'Why are they targeting you?' he asked, confused, 'you don't seem to have done anything wrong.'

Blaine actually laughed sheepishly at that, 'actually, I kicked one of them in the head yesterday at recess.'

'_What_? Blaine! What were you thinking?'

'They started it, Martin. One of them hit me for sitting in their seat at lunch, and another dumped a slushee on my head. I kicked the one who hit me, though. He almost got me good; he hit me when I wasn't looking.'

'Bloody cowards!' Martin exclaimed, outraged, 'why not just go back to Dalton if it's that bad?'

'It's not all bad…' Blaine replied, a small smile playing on his lips. Martin grinned.

'You've met someone.'

Blaine shrugged, 'sort of. His name is Kurt Hummel and _fuck_, he is the most beautiful boy I've ever seen. And he's actually gay.'

'Back on the bag, Blaine. But do keep telling me about him.'

Blaine went back over to the bag eagerly and kicked it swiftly, 'he's a countertenor. That's a singing range, by the way. We sang together today. It was –' he punched the bag, 'kind of amazing.'

'Oh? What does he look like?' Martin asked, leaning against the wall, looking interested.

'Big eyes – glasz –' another kick, 'like caught between blue and green and –' a punch, 'grey. Uh… brown hair, perfectly styled –' a quick sequence of hits, '_very_ fashionable. Taller than me –' two more kicks, 'slim. Soft facial features.'

By now, he was panting from talking and punching at the same time. Martin nodded, clearly approving.

'Does he seem interested in you?'

Blaine flushed, 'it's not like I'm _interested _in him in the first place, we're just friends.'

'That's not what I asked.'

Blaine mulled the question over as he punched and kicked the bag a few more times, 'well, I don't know, really. He puts an 'x' at the end of his texts.'

Martin laughed, 'that hardly counts as interested.'

Blaine frowned at him.

'Well I _did _say I didn't know.' he muttered, hitting the bag with a bit more force than necessary.

'Ooh, touchy,' Martin teased, punching the other side of the bag. Blaine glared at him.

'You're such an asshole sometimes.'

'Such harsh words from such a short little hobbit!'

Blaine stepped back from the bag and crossed his arms over his chest, 'yeah, okay, get in the cage. I'm going to destroy you, Ortiz.'

Martin grinned and jogged over to the nearest available cage. Blaine got in a few seconds later, looking determined.

'Touch gloves, young grasshopper!' Martin demanded, holding out his glove. Blaine was angry; he would be distracted and therefore easy to beat. Martin figured that knocking some clarity into Blaine would do him some good right now – he succumbed to his anger far more than he should have.

Blaine bumped fists with him aggressively, immediately taking his fighting stance. Martin smirked; this would be easy.

He danced around the ring as Blaine swung at him, trying to get the boy's back against the cage. If he could take him down, he could easily win by submission.

His thoughts, however, were broken by Blaine's fist colliding painfully with his cheek. He saw Blaine draw his fist back again and dodged it easily. Blaine growled under his breath and unleashed a powerful side kick which only just collided with Martin's shoulder. He winced but the pain quickly faded as he launched his own kick at Blaine, which landed squarely on the his ribcage. He saw Blaine bite back the groan which threatened to escape his lips, knowing he wouldn't want to show his pain. He threw a punch and missed, to which Blaine retaliated by landing a solid uppercut. Martin scowled.

But he could see as the fight progressed, Blaine was becoming more and more distracted. His punches became more sloppy in his anger and Martin's landed more solidly, and with each hit, Blaine's temper grew.

His back was now facing the fence and Martin lunged at him without warning, pinning him to the fence. He managed to hook one arm under Blaine's knee and the other under his armpit, and after a brief struggle where Blaine tried frantically to kick Martin off him, Martin lifted him off the floor and slammed him to the floor. He saw Blaine's head collide painfully with the floor, but he dived on him either way, launching a barrage of powerful punches to Blaine's ribs and head.

Blaine squirmed beneath him, trying to push Martin off of him. He was twisting his body – in the _wrong _direction, Martin would scold him for that later – and Martin was almost in a perfect position to get him in an arm bar.

Blaine shifted under him a bit more and now Martin's legs were lying across Blaine's chest. He managed to wrestle Blaine's arm between his thighs and wasted no time in throwing himself back, arching his hips as he did so. Blaine tapped almost immediately, and as Martin released him, Blaine practically threw Martin off him and stood, storming out of the cage. Martin sighed and went after him.

'This is so _shit_!' Blaine shouted, throwing a punch at a nearby punching bag, 'if I can't even spar with you, _how _am I meant to beat that Russian cunt?'

Martin winced at the language, but grabbed Blaine by the arm.

'You need to learn when to calm down, Blaine. You lost a sparring match, not the fucking title!'

'I don't _fucking _understand this. This is not fair! First dad dies, then mum moves, then those fucking jocks start on me, and now I can't even win a fucking spar?' Blaine spat, clearly at breaking point, 'this is _not fair_. This isn't fair at all! It's _obvious_ that I'm not going to win the title.'

That's when Martin snapped.

'With that attitude, yeah, you will lose, Blaine.' he retorted angrily, 'maybe if you stopped feeling so sorry for yourself and stepped up and _tried_ then you wouldn't lose. You need to learn how to control your fucking temper or you're going to lose a _lot _more than a spar. You're acting like a child, and I'm not going to tolerate that in my gym. When you learn how to act like an adult, a _winner_, not a fucking toddler, then we can talk.'

With that, he stormed off, not caring how hypocritical it was to lecture Blaine on his temper and then lose his cool himself. He didn't mean to be that harsh but Blaine's behavior was not going to benefit anyone in the long run, and dealing with the boy's constant anger was tiresome.

Blaine watched him leave, feeling a mixture of anger and hurt. How could he just up and leave him like that? He was his _coach. _His mentor. He couldn't just desert him like that. He knew his temper was hard to deal with sometimes but he was meant to help Blaine get through it, not desert him. He had come here to let out all his frustrations, but now he felt ten times worse. He snarled under his breath and turned, kicking the boxing bag with such ferocity that it swung long after he'd stormed out of the gym.


	5. Chapter 5

_How was training? xx – K_

Blaine stared down at the text thoughtfully. He could just lie and say it went fine, or he could tell the truth and have Kurt possibly cheer him up somehow. He weighed up his options for a few more seconds before replying.

_Not too good. :/ I had a fight with my trainer. – B_

The reply came back only a few seconds later and Blaine bit his lip as he read it.

_Oh no! That's not good at all! :/ Can I ask what happened? I know we haven't known each other long but I'm always here to talk to if you need. xx – K_

Blaine sighed and drummed his fingers against his desk; something he'd realised was a nervous habit. He didn't know whether he should tell Kurt or not – he really didn't want to be a burden, or come across as someone who complained too much. He'd only known Kurt for two days, after all. He didn't want Kurt to think he was a sook.

_I just had a rough day at school and took my anger out at him. We sparred and I lost and I lost control of my temper and he wasn't too happy about it. – B x_

Again, Kurt texted back quickly, and Blaine had to smile at the message.

_Well you have every right to be angry! Azimio and Karofsky were awful to you today; I know how much you wanted to fight them again. I know you would win, too! I'm sure your trainer won't be mad much longer. Perhaps you should text him and apologize for losing your cool? I don't know. But I'm here for you, Blaine! xx – K_

Kurt was right – he should have apologized to Martin hours earlier, but he knew that attempting to apologize while he was angry would be pointless; he and Martin would have just fought more.

They'd never really had a full-blown argument before; sure, they'd been annoyed with each other, but those tiffs were generally sorted out in the cage. Now Blaine just felt lonely – Martin was the one person who had never failed to be there for him and now he was worried he'd ruined his relationship with the man for good.

He unlocked his phone and opened up his messages, unsure of what to write. He knew he had to apologize, but he didn't know what to write. He decided on something simple – Martin wasn't one for deep, emotional conversations.

_I'm sorry for letting my temper get the better of me today. You're right; my attitude isn't one of a winner. You didn't deserve it and I'm sorry. – B _

He sent the text off and waited for a reply, but when it didn't come an hour and a half later, he started to get worried.

He couldn't have made Martin that mad – could he? Not enough to make him just leave Blaine forever.

Another half hour passed and Blaine was pacing his room nervously when his mother knocked on his door.

'You have a visitor, sweetie.' she told him, not bothering to explain herself further.

Confused, he made his way downstairs, wondering who it could be. Kurt? Unlikely. One of the Dalton boys? Even more unlikely.

He did a double-take when he saw who it was.

Martin, standing the doorway, arms folded across his chest, a smirk on his face.

'We have a score to settle I think,' he told Blaine smoothly, tossing him a pair of gloves, 'backyard. Now.'

* * *

><p>'Did you and your trainer make up?'<p>

It was fourth period on Wednesday and Kurt and Blaine had English together. Tina was listening to music, obviously not wanting to interrupt the boys, so Blaine and Kurt had the entire session to talk to each other.

'We did,' Blaine replied, smiling lightly, 'he came over to my house and we had this incredible spar in the backyard - I am _covered _in bruises, it was amazing!'

After Martin had showed up, they had gone straight to the backyard and fought until they were both bloody and bruised. Blaine had a row of magnificent bruises travelling up his ribcage from Martin's kicks and Martin in turn was sporting a brilliant black eye from a particularly nasty right hook from Blaine. Afterwards, Martin had sat them down on the ground and lectured him on his temper, and how it would benefit him if he could control his emotions a little better. He understood Blaine was angry – with his father's death and moving to another town, but he reminded him that being angry had never gotten him anywhere – especially in the cage, which is what he had to focus on now. He also reminded him that all of his little, stupid mistakes when he was fighting came from fighting in anger, and if he were to take on Alexei, he would have to with a clear conscience.

'That's great!' Kurt smiled, 'he wasn't too mad, right?'

Blaine pondered this for a moment.

'Initially I think yeah, he was really mad,' he replied, 'but then we had a really long talk and he's right – I have an awful temper.'

Kurt couldn't help but agree – from what he'd seen, Blaine did was quick to anger. But he didn't blame him – he wished he was strong enough to stand up for himself for once.

'How do you do it?' he asked suddenly, 'how do you stand up to people like that?'

Blaine hesitated.

'I used to let people push me around,' he admitted softly, 'I was really, really scared to stand up for myself. But then their abuse got physical and it dragged on and I just… snapped. You need to have courage, Kurt. You need to stand up for yourself because you _deserve _to be treated with respect.'

Kurt nodded slowly at his words and then gave him a brilliant smile.

'Courage,' he repeated, 'I like that.'

* * *

><p>Wednesday turned to Thursday, which turned to Friday, which then turned to last period. Blaine was sitting in math with Finn and Puck, both of whom were eagerly trying to get him to come to glee club practice that afternoon.<p>

'Come on man, just sit in on one practice and see if you like it, if you don't, you don't have to stay,' Finn urged, ducking his head as he saw the teacher glance over in their direction.

Blaine hesitated and made to reply, but he was cut off by Puck.

'Look, Hummel told us you had an incredible voice, and we _need _some star power,' he told him in a hushed whisper, 'we're getting a little sick of all the solos going to Berry.'

'I was planning on training this afternoon…' Blaine replied quietly, quickly solving another equation. Finn rolled his eyes.

'Practice is only an hour,' he told him, 'so it's not like you'll lose any time. Come on, please?'

Blaine sighed. He missed performing, but he also missed the Warblers. He felt as though he would be betraying his friends if he joined the New Directions – and then they would be competition. He didn't want to compete against them.

But then again, the New Directions had Kurt. And Blaine liked spending time with Kurt – a lot. So he was seriously considering it.

'Fine.' he relented after a few moments, 'but I can't guarantee I'll stay.'

'Cool!' Finn shot him his trademark half smile and they worked in silence for the rest of the lesson. When the bell went, Blaine suddenly began to feel a little nervous – the New Directions sounded very, very different to the Warblers and he wasn't sure he'd be able to handle their dramas. The Warblers – albeit extremely strict – all got on well and there weren't too many fights among them; especially over solos, they all went to Blaine anyway.

Finn and Puck led him to the choir room, and he saw the room was almost full. There was a teacher at the front, with curly hair and a vest. Finn dragged Blaine up in front of everyone and threw an arm around him.

'Guys, this is Blaine!' he told them all, smiling brightly, 'he might be joining us, so I invited him along to today's practice, is that okay?'

There was a general murmur of approval, and Blaine spotted Kurt at the back, looking as though Christmas had come early. He had to smile at that, and was then approached by the teacher.

'Hello, Blaine!' he smiled, 'I'm Mr. Schuester! Do you plan on singing today, or do you just want to watch?'

'You should sing, Blaine!' Kurt called, sounding excited.

'Yeah, we wanna see if you sing as good as you look!' the Latina girl from his Biology class added, winking at him. He noticed that her pinky finger was once again linked with Brittany's.

'I – uh… well, I don't really have anything prepared…' Blaine replied, scratching the back of his neck, feeling uncomfortable.

'But look – there are a lot of instruments around, and you said you played quite a bit.' Kurt reasoned, and Blaine looked around to see a piano, a set of drums and a number of guitars. He suddenly felt the urge to just play all of them, and lose himself in the instruments. He nodded after a moment, quickly choosing a song in his head.

'Um, can I use the piano?' he asked tentatively. Mr. Schuester nodded and gestured to the piano, looking expectant.

A man was already sitting at the piano, and he seemed to leave it grudgingly. Blaine felt a little bad for taking the piano from him for some reason – he had a feeling the man played the piano for all of their songs.

He sat down and his fingers ran over the keys gently, relishing the feeling of the cool, sleek keys under his fingertips.

He found his place and began to play the opening to _Drops of Jupiter _by Train, closing his eyes and allowing the music to sweet him away.

_Now that she's back in the atmosphere  
>With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey, hey, hey<br>She acts like summer and walks like rain  
>Reminds me that there's time to change, hey, hey, hey, hey<em>

He chanced a look at the others, and they were staring back at him, awestruck. He took this as a good sign and closed his eyes again, opting to not look up again until he was done with the song.

_Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet  
>Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day<br>And head back toward the milky way_

He could feel his fingers tingle as they played, felt his heart pick up as the thrill of the music rushed through him. If he didn't make it as a fighter, he knew music was what he wanted to do instead. His enthusiasm in playing picked up and he found himself on his feet, pouring his heart into the keys.

He was then shocked as he heard the people in the room begin to back him up near the end of the song. He figured this was a good thing and his fingers danced fluidly across the keys as the song drew to a close.

There was a moment of stunned silence and then someone began to applaud, which quickly spread, and soon everyone was clapping enthusiastically, some even getting out of their seat to go and shake his hand or pat him on the back.

'Wow!' Mr. Schuester laughed, clearly impressed, 'Rachel, I think someone's giving you a run for your money! I hope you consider joining us, Blaine. We could use a talent like yours. Please, take a seat.'

Blaine nodded and went to go sit at the back next to Kurt. As he passed Rachel, she crossed her arms over her chest and made an annoyed sound. Blaine felt a rush of guilt surge through him but then he shook it off quickly – he couldn't help being good. He probably loved performing just as much as she did.

He took a seat next to Kurt who beamed at him, and reached over and took his hand in his.

'I told you, you're incredible!' he whispered, 'and they love you already!'

Blaine felt his heart flutter in his chest at Kurt's words, and the feel of his hand in his felt better than the keys of the piano. His fingers began to heat up and he didn't release Kurt's hand, keeping it clasped in his.

'Mr. Schuester,' Rachel began sweetly from the front of the class, 'I do believe that I should be allowed to showcase my _own_ talents, as Blaine was able to show his.'

There was a collective groan from the students in the class and Rachel glared at them all.

'Alright, Rachel,' Mr. Schuester sighed, running his hand through his hair, 'the floor is yours.'

She smirked and marched to the front of the classroom, spinning to face the students.

'This is a song I found while I was browsing the internet,' she told them all matter-of-factly, 'it's by a band called _Emarosa_, and I found the vocals to be quite powerful and after singing it a few times, I discovered that it matched my voice perfectly.'

_Where to now?  
>Drifting his body,<br>Cutting you down,  
>And I can't pretend.<br>His eyes don't burn, no,  
>In your skin.<em>

Blaine was stunned at just how beautiful her voice was – she was _certainly _a lot better than he was. But she was a diva, he reasoned, and that couldn't have been enjoyable. But he couldn't deny her talent, and wondered why she wasn't on Broadway already.

But the rest of the people in the room looked unimpressed, bored even. But they'd heard her sing so many times, and listening to the same voice – however amazing it was – he figured, would be a little tiresome.

However when she reached the chorus, Blaine was literally blown away. He'd never heard anyone quite like her – and he didn't think it was possible for such a powerful voice to come from such a small person.

_How did you ever see me broken?  
>Well you forced me to find out, every day.<br>Did you ever see me open?  
>Well you forced me to find out every day.<em>

She opened her eyes then and looked directly at Blaine, smirking at how impressed he looked. She closed her eyes again and kept singing, and Blaine could see that she, too, completely lost herself in the music when she performed. He decided that if he did join the glee club, he wouldn't take her solos. He knew it would be devastating for her to lose what was probably the only way she could express herself.

_Oh, pretty girl,  
>Keep batting your eyes,<em>  
>'<em>Cause when you breathe,<br>you lie, lie,  
>Oh, pretty girl,<br>You better think twice_  
>'<em>Cause second chances are rarer than I<em>

There was scattered applause as she finished, but Blaine saw that Finn wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her temple. He smiled at the simple display of affection, before noticing his hand was still holding Kurt's.

He chanced a glance at Kurt, and saw the boy was staring back at him.

'I liked your performance better,' he told him softly, a small smile on his face. Blaine grinned at him and they turned back to the front, where Mr. Schuester was talking about Sectionals.

'We're up against the Hipsters – which is a glee club from a nursing home – and the Warblers, from Dalton Academy. They are an all male a capella group. Honestly guys, I don't see either of them as a threat. I think we've got this one!'

At this comment, the members of the New Directions who knew Blaine was once a Warbler turned to look at him apologetically. Blaine felt a flash of annoyance and it must have showed, because Kurt squeezed his hand and spoke up.

'Mr. Schuester, I think you should probably watch what you say before you offend someone,' he told him, looking at him pointedly, 'Blaine was the lead soloist of the Warblers before he transferred to McKinley.'

'It's kind of why I'm so hesitant to join,' Blaine added, 'I don't want to betray my boys.'

Mr. Schuester blushed brightly.

'I'm so sorry, Blaine!' he apologized quickly, 'I had no idea. If they're anything like you, then yes, the Warblers could be seen as a huge threat.'

'I mean no offence to any of you when I say this, but the Warblers _are _a huge threat.' he told them all seriously, 'and I'm not saying this because I was once a part of their group, but they are _seriously _talented. I know my replacement, Nick, is just as good as I am and I know that they're determined to get to Nationals this year – here.'

He pulled out his iPhone and brought up a video of an impromptu performance of _Teenage Dream _they'd done as a sending off to Blaine. He showed the video to Kurt, who stared at the phone for a few moments before passing it back wordlessly, looking a little worried.

The phone was passed around the classroom from person to person, who all adopted Kurt's worried expression. Finally, after Mr. Schuester had seen it, the phone was returned to Blaine and there was silence.

'Well. They really are a threat.' Finn announced, 'looks like we're just going to have to work even harder.'

He turned to Blaine.

'This is why we need you, man. We need talent like yours!'

There were various agreements amongst the people, including Kurt, who squeezed his hand and gave him a pleading look.

He didn't see how he couldn't do it now. Not with a roomful of people practically begging him, and Kurt looking him with those big, beautiful eyes of his.

'Okay, I'll do it.' he told them.

There was a general cheer and Blaine grinned widely as people began to turn around and thank and congratulate him. One the excitement had died down a little; Mr. Schuester grinned and clapped his hands together.

'Alright, guys! Let's get ready to win this!'

* * *

><p>Blaine's legs were beginning to shake with exertion, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he ran. He figured he could stop for a few moments and came to a jarring halt, hands on his knees as he bent forwards and tried to regain his breath.<p>

He had been running for at least an hour and a half – after glee club had finished at 4 o'clock, he'd headed straight home and went for a run. He was pretty sure he'd known half the town inside out by now, having run absolutely everywhere. He was only a few streets from his house now, and decided he would sit down for a moment – his head was spinning and he didn't want to collapse. He needed water – he'd forgotten his bottle and couldn't risk dehydration; even though the weather was chilly, he was sweating and overheating.

_Perhaps I could just knock on someone's door and ask, _he thought, getting to his feet, _I mean, it's just a glass of water._

He looked at the house behind him – the lights were on and it looked decidedly cozy. He walked shakily up the path and knocked on the door. After a few moments, it was answered by a big man, with strangely familiar looking eyes and a flannel shirt.

'Can I help you, son?' he asked, and Blaine was pleased to hear his voice was kind.

He was still having trouble regaining his breath, so he barely managed to reply, 'I – I've been running for like, an hour and a h-half and I forgot my bottle of water. Could I perhaps have some?'

The man looked him up and down, taking in his disheveled appearance.

'Sure thing, buddy. Come inside, it's freezing out there.'

Blaine stepped into the house and the first thing he noticed was how much it looked like a home. It was warm and slightly cramped, but it had the air of a house that was well loved. He felt comfortable.

'Come on, the kitchen's this way,' the man told him, leading the way. Blaine followed and ended up in a small, well lit kitchen, which smelt heavenly. A kind looking woman was cooking something and she smiled brightly at Blaine.

'Oh, hello!' she greeted him, 'I didn't know the boys invited a guest over tonight. My name is Carole!'

'I – oh, no, I just needed some water…' Blaine told her, feeling decidedly awkward. The woman frowned slightly, but went to the cupboard and retrieved a glass, filling it to the brim with water.

'Here you go, sweetie,' she smiled as she gave him the glass. Blaine drank deeply, and when he was finished, he was still thirsty. He handed the glass back, looking apologetic. She laughed and refilled the glass for him.

Suddenly there were heavy footsteps above him and Blaine figured someone was coming down the stairs. When the person did enter the kitchen, Blaine was completely shocked to see Finn.

'Blaine, dude!' he grinned, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by to get to the fridge, 'did Kurt invite you over?'

'K-Kurt?' Blaine repeated, surprised, 'Kurt lives here?'

'Yeah… wait, if no one invited you… why are you here? Not to sound rude or anything, dude.'

'Oh, um, I went for a run and didn't have any water and kinda just stopped at the first house I saw,' Blaine replied, shrugging.

Finn laughed, 'I _always_ forget water when I go for a run. That's when I get Burt or mum to pick me up. Do you want me to get Kurt for you? He's in his room.'

Blaine hesitated. He didn't really want Kurt to see him all hot and sweaty – and probably smelly. But he did find the thought of seeing Kurt appealing, so he nodded and Finn simply turned towards the door.

'_Kurt!_' he bellowed in what was probably the loudest voice he'd ever heard, '_Blaine's over!_'

There was a silence, and then hesitant steps on the stairs. Kurt stepped into the kitchen, hair tousled and slightly damp.

'Blaine!' he exclaimed, sounding both shocked and pleased, 'what are you doing here? Are you okay?'

'I just needed water…' Blaine explained awkwardly, 'I didn't know this was your house.'

'Oh! Okay.' Kurt then sighed and ran his hand through his hair, 'I'm so sorry, my hair is an absolute mess…'

Blaine laughed, 'it's okay, Kurt. I won't be staying for long anyway. Don't even worry about it. Thanks for the water, Carole. I really appreciate it.'

'That's fine, honey! Stop by sometime, alright?'

Blaine nodded and smiled charmingly at her.

'I'll walk you out,' Kurt announced suddenly, his cheeks slightly pink. Blaine said goodbye to Finn and Kurt walked him to the front door.

'So, um, I'm sorry for intruding,' Blaine apologized, standing in the doorway awkwardly.

'It's fine, of course it's fine, don't worry about it,' Kurt babbled, and then took a deep breath and blushed, 'um, I was wondering… are you busy tomorrow? Would you like to go and get a coffee or something?'

Blaine froze. Was Kurt asking him out? Probably not. But then why was he blushing? And why hadn't he replied yet?

'Um, yeah. Of course!' he replied, sounding perhaps a little too eager. Kurt smiled at him breathlessly.

'Okay. Great. Um, I'll text you.'

'Sure. Goodnight, Kurt.'

'Goodnight, Blaine.' another one of those brilliant smiles. Blaine stepped outside and Kurt shut the door gently.

Blaine stood there for a moment before he grinned, shaking his head and setting off home at a run.


	6. Chapter 6

'Who was that, Kurt?' Burt asked conversationally as they all sat around the dinner table, his tone casual but his expression guarded. Kurt shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

'He's the new boy – Blaine Anderson,' Kurt replied, reaching for the bowl of salad to avoid looking at his father.

'Yeah, he's really cool!' Finn added cheerfully as he piled mashed potatoes onto his plate, 'he's the one who kicked Karofsky in the head and is teaching Kurt kickboxing!'

Burt's eyes widened and he choked slightly on his water, shooting a suspicious glare at Kurt.

'Kickboxing, Kurt?' he asked skeptically, 'and what's this about kicking Karofsky in the head?'

'He's a kickboxer, dad,' Kurt explained gently, 'he's been doing it for most of his life. On his first day of school Karofsky punched him in the face because he sat in his seat at lunch and then another boy dumped a slushee over his head so he retaliated. It actually knocked Karofsky to the ground and afterwards I asked him to teach me how to defend myself. That's it.'

'Karofsky's the one who's giving you trouble?' Burt asked. Kurt nodded and Burt grunted, 'I guess it's good that you're learning how to defend yourself, then.'

'He's just teaching me basic things,' Kurt told him, 'I went over to his house on Monday and he taught me how to kick. Well, sort of. I haven't really gotten the hang of it yet.'

'You went over to his _house_?'

'His mother was home!' Kurt snapped, 'and it's not like he would try something. I barely know him!'

'That's _exactly _why you should be careful,' Burt sighed, 'you don't know what he's like. Finn, does he seem like an okay kid to you?'

'Yeah, he's in my math class!' Finn exclaimed, shoveling food into his mouth, chewing for a moment and then swallowing, 'he helps me with the work and he's really, really cool. We have a lot in common – we also got him to join the glee club! He was the soloist at his old school and he sung for us today; it was pretty awesome. He's a really cool dude; I think Kurt would be fine with him.'

Kurt grinned at his stepbrother appreciatively. Finn looked pleased with himself, glad he'd said something right for once.

'Well, he's _certainly_ very good looking,' Carole commented, winking at Kurt, who blushed brightly, 'does he seem interested in you? Are you interested in him?'

'_Carole_…' Burt began warningly, but Kurt interrupted him.

'I don't think he's interested in me,' he replied honestly, 'well, not like that. But I invited him for coffee tomorrow. I guess I'll see if we click or something.'

'You didn't tell me you were going on a date with him!' Burt interjected, sounding appalled. Kurt sighed.

'That's because it's _not_ a date, dad,' he replied exasperatedly, 'we're just two friends getting coffee, okay?'

Burt sighed, 'okay.'

* * *

><p>The feeling in the pit of Blaine's stomach on Saturday morning could only be described as pre-fight jitters.<p>

But he wasn't going to fight anyone today, no. Quite the opposite, actually. Today was the day of his not-quite-a-date coffee date with Kurt and honestly, the nerves were kicking in.

Sure, he'd been alone with Kurt before but not like this; when Kurt asked him, he seemed nervous and apprehensive and Blaine had actually _blushed_. Even if it wasn't a date, it was a little more than a trip to the coffee shop and Blaine was determined not to screw it up.

Which is why when his phone buzzed at 7.46 am, he practically leapt out of bed to see who it was.

But it wasn't Kurt – it was Martin.

_Come to the gym at 2 o'clock! Cardio today! – M_

Blaine bit his lip. If he had training at two, he would have to leave at eleven thirty at the latest in order to get to the gym a little early. Martin was very strict with training times, and he didn't appreciate Blaine's lateness. But that also meant that he would be held up until at least four thirty, and then an extra half hour for their post-training talks and a shower, and then an hour and a half trip back home. That left him at six thirty, which might have been too late for Kurt to go out.

He didn't even know when Kurt wanted to meet up, but that question was soon answered as his phone vibrated a second time.

_Does coffee at 5.30 sound okay to you? xx – K_

Five thirty – he would be driving home by then. He really, really didn't want to cancel on Kurt, not the first time he'd asked him to hang out. But perhaps if Kurt came to Westerville with him, they could get coffee after the gym. But Kurt probably wouldn't want to hang around a sweaty gym for hours. He figured he could ask to push the time back a little, and make it back to Lima by six if he cut his talk with Martin a little short and drove a little quicker.

_I have to train in Westerville today. :/ Is six, maybe six fifteen alright? – B x_

He figured Kurt would just cancel the whole thing, but when Kurt replied with a simple '_okay, see you then! :) xx – K'_, Blaine cheered up significantly. With little else to do, he took a shower and packed his training clothes and a change of clothes for after into his gym bag and then went downstairs.

His mother was at work, taking an early shift at the hospital, so he was on his own until he had to leave. It was 8.23 am now, and he didn't feel like waiting, so he decided to just drive to Westerville now and perhaps see his friends at Dalton for a while before he went to see Martin.

* * *

><p>The traffic was light, and he pulled into the Dalton parking lot at around ten o'clock. He walked into the reception office and was greeted brightly by the receptionist<p>

'Hello, Marcy,' he smiled at her, 'I was wondering if I could go see the boys.'

'Sure, Blaine!' she replied, quickly signing him a visitors card, 'it's nice to see you again – you should stop by more often.'

'I will.' he assured her, before heading out of the office and taking a shortcut to the dorms. He figured he'd see Wes and David first – they were the council members of the Warblers and his best friends at Dalton. He reached their dorm, and, knowing they would still be in bed at this time, knocked loudly on the door.

'Go away!' came the muffled, expected reply. Blaine resisted the urge to laugh and then knocked on the door again.

'_Go away!_' shouted a deeper voice – Blaine recognised it instantly as David's.

He knocked a third time, harder this time.

'I swear to god, whoever you are, if you knock on this door one more time…'

'And _I _swear to god, Wesley Montgomery, if you don't open this door _right now_, I'm kicking it down; and then I'm going to kick _you _down.' Blaine called through the door, smirking. There was a silence, and then the door was flung open a moment later.

'Blaine!' Wes cried cheerfully, hair sticking up at all angles and eyes half shut with sleep, 'you came back to us!'

'Just for a visit, man,' Blaine replied as his friend threw his arms around him, 'is that David I heard in there?'

'Yeah, it's me, Blaine!' David confirmed, appearing at the door and grinning at Blaine, 'we've missed you, buddy.'

'I've missed you guys, too.'

'Come in, come in,' Wes ushered him inside and shut the door, 'what are you doing here in drabulous old Westerville?'

'I have training at two and thought I'd come early to see you guys!'

'Aw, how sweet!' David cooed, collapsing back onto his bed, 'you've been thinking about us. How's your new school?'

Blaine immediately launched into a recap of his first week at school, telling them everything, including the trouble he'd been having with Karofsky and his gang. Wes looked appalled.

'Gosh, public school kids can be so savage!' he commented, 'good on you for fighting back, though! Don't let them push you around.'

'Not a chance,' Blaine agreed, 'but um, I do have to tell you guys something. I hope you won't be mad at me.'

David raised his eyebrows, 'why would we be mad at you? What happened, bro?'

'I um, kind of joined the school's glee club, the New Directions.'

There was a slightly awkward silence and Blaine winced, waiting for the explosions of outrage.

'Um… I'm… happy for you…?' Wes replied slowly, unsure of what to say. Frankly, he didn't care. He wouldn't deny Blaine the chance to perform just because he had moved schools. Why would they be mad at him? Blaine had serious talent and should be allowed to flaunt it.

'You're not mad?'

'Um, no, we're not,' David replied, laughing, 'in fact, we feel bad for you.'

'Why do you feel bad for me?'

'Because you're going to lose!' Wes told him, picking up on what David was insinuating. Blaine laughed at them.

'Oh, bring it on, guys!' he challenged, 'honestly, we're going to give you a run for your money – there's this one girl, Rachel, and she should seriously be on Broadway by now.'

'That good?'

'That good.' Blaine replied seriously, 'she's extraordinary. But she's a total diva, though. So it's kind of a win-lose situation.'

'Well, you're still going to lose,' Wes informed him brightly, 'though he's not really as good as you, Nick is fantastic and a great lead. No offence.'

'None taken. Speaking of Nick, where are the others?' Blaine asked, looking around as though he expected the Warblers to pop up out of random places.

'Sleeping, I think,' David replied thoughtfully, 'though I think we should call an emergency meeting of the Warblers so that everyone can see Blaine before he leaves. When are you leaving?'

'Around one, one thirty I think,' Blaine replied. It was now around ten thirty; he had plenty of time.

'Alright, just let me text the guys! Get ready for a Warbler reunion!'

* * *

><p>Blaine was in high spirits as he left for the gym later that day. Seeing the Warblers had lifted his mood completely and now he was ready for an intense workout. So far, his day was going brilliantly.<p>

It had only been a week, but Blaine had missed his friends very much. As soon as he saw them pile through the door, he was overcome with emotion and had to hug each and every one of them, and demand details of their week without him. Nick and Jeff were still going strong, Trent was still rather obsessed with him and kept asking when he would make his 'triumphant return to Dalton', Ethan was still the same, bubbly boy he'd always been, and they were all still as loving and kind as they always were. Blaine wished he was back at Dalton, back with them, but he wasn't about to complain about where he was at now. McKinley was his home now – well, his home away from home. Dalton would always be where he truly belonged.

He whistled cheerily as he entered the gym and headed straight for the changing rooms, quickly changing into his workout clothes and then going off to find Martin, who was in his office, looking over paperwork.

'Hello, Martin!' he greeted him happily, his smile wide.

'Hey, Blaine,' Martin replied, looking him over, 'you seem happy. Got lucky?'

Blaine laughed, 'no, no. I went to Dalton today though – I saw the boys and it put me in a really good mood. Oh, I have to ask you a favor.'

'Shoot, buddy.'

'Um, Kurt asked me out for coffee – don't look at me like that, it's _not _a date. But I was wondering if we could cut our post-training chat a little short so that I could make it there on time. Is that okay with you?' Blaine asked hesitantly. Martin smiled at him.

'Like I would deny you the chance to go out for coffee with a pretty boy. Yeah, that's fine with me. But right now, you're going to get on that treadmill and you're going to collapse with exertion.'

Blaine nodded, feeling eager at the prospect of training. He all but ran from the office and Martin laughed, watching as he left.

He liked Blaine when he was happy. He was more willing to train and of course, not in a bad mood. When he was angry nothing went right for him, which was completely understandable; he had to learn to be tolerant and patient.

He used to be both of those when he was younger, but losing his father, his friends and he harassment he endured was more than enough to strip the qualities away. Martin knew Blaine a lot better than most, and he knew how much Blaine was hurting. His father had died months ago and he knew for a fact that the boy hadn't even cried yet – that kind of pressure had to have been overwhelming him, causing him to lash out. It wasn't healthy, and Martin only hoped he could learn to release the pressure healthily before his fight – or before it turned to something a lot worse and Blaine lost everything.

But those were thoughts for another time. He left his office and smiled as he saw Blaine already running furiously on the treadmill, head bent low, legs pumping furiously.

'Not fast enough, Blaine,' he called, the jeer evident in his voice, 'I want you to never be able to walk on those legs again! Faster!'

* * *

><p>Blaine's entire body was sore after his workout, but he managed to change and shower quickly and was out of the gym by four thirty sharp.<p>

He drove perhaps a little too quickly back to Lima, but he couldn't help himself. He was extremely excited to see Kurt, even if it wasn't actually a real date. About halfway back home, his phone buzzed, and he pulled over to the side of the road so that he could read it.

Ever since the accident, even though he sometimes drove a little too fast, he'd always made sure he paid his full attention to the road, which included pulling over to answer calls or texts. He didn't want to risk crashing again – he'd had enough of car accidents for the rest of his life.

_I'm excited for tonight! I'll meet you at the Lima Bean, you might have passed on your way to school. I'll just get there at six and wait around for you. See you soon! xx – K _

Blaine smiled and quickly typed out a reply.

_I'm about halfway back to Lima so I should be there on time. I'm excited, too! – B x_

He set his phone down and pulled back into the lane. He had seen the Lima Bean on his way to school and had been meaning to stop by there, but he'd never had the chance. He hoped he would make it back quickly and Kurt wouldn't have to wait too long for him. The last thing he wanted to do was make him wait for too long and seem rude.

But he did arrive in Lima just as the clock on his dashboard struck 6.03. The Lima Bean, he figured, would be about five or ten minutes away, so he wasn't very worried at all. He made it to the parking lot of the coffee shop at 6.11 and left his car quickly, heading towards the shop.

The inside was cozy and there weren't too many people around. He spotted Kurt, who was sitting at a booth near the back of the store, and waved at him. Kurt waved him over, smiling brightly. Blaine suddenly felt nervous – was this a date? He didn't know.

'Blaine, hi!' Kurt greeted him, sounding slightly breathless. Blaine slid into the booth opposite Kurt and smiled.

'How are you? I'm sorry I'm a little late.'

'Oh, it's no problem at all,' Kurt assured him, the smile not leaving his face, 'I'm really good, thanks! I went shopping with Tina and Mercedes today – I bought this _amazing _Marc Jacobs sweater on sale. How was training?'

'Ugh, exhausting.' Blaine replied, still feeling the burn in his legs, 'I worked on cardio today, which is seriously my least favorite thing to do, but my fitness is getting so much better, so it's worth it. Oh, I also visited my friends at Dalton today and they were cool with me joining the New Directions!'

'Really? That's really great!'

'Yeah,' Blaine grinned, 'but they're pretty convinced that they're going to beat us.'

'No way!' Kurt argued, his tone playful, 'we have you – and me. There's no way they're going to beat us.'

'That's true! Especially with you on our team, you have an incredible voice.'

Kurt blushed lightly, 'I'm not nearly as good as you.'

'But you're so much better!' Blaine insisted, drumming his fingers on the table, 'so is Rachel. Her talent scares me.'

Kurt snorted, 'her talent – while obvious – is overrated and overdone. I mean, there are other amazing singers in glee club; you should hear Tina, her voice is beautiful! And Artie? The guy in the wheelchair? His voice is mind blowing. She's not the only one who should be able to sing.'

'I have to agree there, but,' Blaine winced, 'I feel like a hypocrite because all the solos went to me when I was at Dalton. So it's not really my place to complain.'

'Complain all you want, with Rachel around, I daresay you'll be getting any solos anytime soon.' Kurt grinned mischievously.

They were then approached by a waitress, who smiled at them kindly.

'Are you guys ready to order?' she asked, 'I would have come over earlier but you two seemed pretty deep in conversation; I didn't want to interrupt.'

Kurt beamed at her, 'thank you! Um, I'll have a grande nonfat mocha.'

'I'll have a medium drip, thanks,' Blaine added, smiling at the girl, who grinned.

'They'll just be a minute,' she assured them before walking off.

'What a lovely girl,' Kurt commented after she'd left. Blaine nodded in agreement.

There was a small silence and Blaine honestly couldn't think of anything to say. His fingers began to drum against the table again and he cursed his nervous habit.

'So tell me about yourself, Blaine,' Kurt requested, resting his chin in his hand and smiling at Blaine sweetly. Blaine bit his lip.

'Um, well, I used to go to Westerville High before I went to Dalton,' he started, 'I grew up in Westerville, but I was born in Italy. We moved here when I was two, but I'm still fluent in Italian. I used to get bullied a lot at my old school because of my sexuality, but by then I'd been training for ages and I almost got expelled for beating the bullies up. I transferred to Dalton, kept fighting, but joined the Warblers. They accepted me there and I was really, really happy.

Then this last summer, I got into a car accident and my father, uh, died. My mum didn't want to live in Westerville after it… happened… so we came to Lima. And that's about it.'

He blinked, cursing himself for the tears that had built up, and suddenly he felt Kurt's hand cover his.

'My mother died when I was eight,' he told him softly, 'I know how you feel. If you ever need to talk about it, I'm here for you.'

Blaine nodded mutely, thankful for Kurt's understanding. Then Kurt began to talk about himself – how he wanted to be a fashion designer, or perform on Broadway, how he dreamed of moving to New York, about his experiences being bullied and how he hadn't done anything to stop them but was slowly gaining the courage.

'It's because you're such an inspiration, Blaine,' he informed him solemnly, squeezing his hand, 'the way you stand up for yourself is amazing, and I want to be more like that.'

At that, their coffees arrived, Blaine substituting his sugar for cinnamon, which Kurt winced at.

'You can't even have sugar in your coffee?' he asked, taking a sip of his own drink. Blaine shrugged, and looked over at the little packets of sugar nostalgically.

'I wish I could,' he replied wistfully, 'I hate being on this diet. It's so stupid. I maintain my weight no matter what I eat anyway.'

'I suppose it'll only benefit you in the long run, though.' Kurt remarked, 'it's good to see someone with such a healthy diet.'

Their conversation flowed smoothly after that, and after their first coffees, they'd ordered a second, and then a third, and pretty soon the Lima Bean was beginning to close for the night.

'Oh, wow, we've been here for ages!' Blaine commented, glancing at the time on his phone. It was nearing ten.

'We have,' Kurt agreed, frowning slightly, 'I could have sworn we were only there for like, half an hour. God, time flies when you're having fun, right?'

He smiled at Blaine, who felt his heart flutter.

'I'll pay for the coffee,' he spoke up, noticing that his voice was slightly shaky. He threw down a fifty on the table and dragged Kurt away before he could protest. He'd then noticed that their hands had been joined for the whole evening.

They walked outside into the cool air and then stood there, a nervous tension suddenly setting between them. Blaine still didn't know if it was a date or not, but at the way Kurt was blushing and avoiding looking at him, he knew it was more than just coffee, even if it wasn't a date quite yet.

'I had a lot of fun tonight,' Kurt told him suddenly, looking up and directly in Blaine's eyes, 'like, I'm not even joking. You're so easy to talk to, Blaine.'

'I had a lot of fun, too,' Blaine replied softly, his heart beginning to hammer, 'we should do this again sometime.'

'We should,' Kurt agreed, 'this has been the nicest evening I've had in a while. I'll text you tomorrow; is that okay?'

'That – that's fine with me,' Blaine assured him. Their hands were still joined and Kurt looked down at them for a moment, before looking back to Blaine.

'Thank you for a lovely evening. I'll talk to you soon.'

And he leaned forward and kissed Blaine softly on the cheek, released his hand, and headed off into the night to his car. Blaine stood there, frozen, the place where Kurt kissed him tingling slightly.

He felt giddy – like he'd run too far, too fast. He felt a smile tug at his lips and he swayed slightly on the spot, brining a hand up to touch the spot gently. It burned under his touch, and he let himself smile, heading off towards his car.


	7. Chapter 7

Sunday was spent lounging around the house, unable to train, but too restless to sit. Blaine wasn't used to having days off – though Martin had texted him earlier and insisted he took a day off to allow his body to recover. His homework was done, the house was clean and he was just _bored_.

It was barely midday, and he had no idea what to do with himself. He didn't feel like watching a movie or playing any video games; and since he was practically forbidden from training, he found himself lying on the grass in his backyard, staring up at the clouds, wishing for some company.

It was cold outside, and the weather was pretty miserable, but he just wished he had someone there, whether they be human or merely some kind of animal.

At that revelation, he sat up quickly.

He could go to the local pound and get himself a dog. His father had been allergic and he'd never been allowed one, but his father was gone now, and his mother was always working and Blaine could use the distraction. He loved dogs – they were so loyal and friendly and intelligent. It could come for runs with him, and he wouldn't have to be so alone all the time.

On a whim, he whipped out his phone and quickly texted Kurt.

_My house is too boring so I'm going to go and get myself a dog. Do you want to come with me? – B x_

Kurt texted back quickly, something Blaine was grateful for.

_Sure! There's a bigger, better pound about half an hour out of Lima, if you wanted to try there. Give me twenty minutes, I'll be over then! xx – K_

Blaine grinned and went inside, fixing his hair quickly and pulling on a thicker jacket – he could tell that the winter would be brutal this year. He wandered around the house, eating an orange, until he heard a knock on the door.

When he opened the door, Kurt was standing there in a thick coat and a beanie, cheeks and nose flushed pink from the cold, the same breathtaking smile on his face.

'Hello! I was thinking, we should just ride in the same car and save ourselves some time following each other. Do you want to take mine? I can drive; I know how to get to the pound.'

Blaine laughed at Kurt's rambling and nodded, 'hello to you too, Kurt. Sure, we can take your car!'

He locked his front door and followed Kurt to his Navigator, hopping into the passenger seat as Kurt fired up the engine.

'So was this a sudden decision of yours?' Kurt asked, pulling from the driveway onto the road, 'I mean, have you always wanted a dog or was this just on a whim?'

'I've always wanted a dog,' Blaine replied, 'but dad was allergic. Mum always works now and I get really bored and lonely at home and I thought, why not?'

'Did you ask your mum?' Kurt asked, now driving along a road Blaine hadn't seen before. Blaine laughed.

'No, I didn't,' he replied sheepishly, 'but I don't think she'd mind. She always felt really bad for not being able to get me a dog; she knew how much I wanted one.'

'What kind of breed are you hoping for?'

They talked about various types of dogs; sizes, breeds, colors. Blaine had always wanted a golden retriever, he always thought they were beautiful, whereas Kurt was more of a small breed lover.

Blaine liked talking to Kurt, he realised. Kurt was one of the most easy going, understanding people he'd ever met and when he was with him, conversation just flowed easily. There wasn't any awkwardness or uncomfortable pauses; they could just talk and talk endlessly.

Their conversation about puppies lasted all the way to the pound, which Blaine almost squealed at upon seeing.

'Come on, Kurt!' he urged excitedly, 'just park anywhere, we have a puppy to rescue!'

Kurt laughed and parked in the first available spot, and Blaine practically leapt from the car.

_I always feel bad when I come here_, Kurt thought as he followed Blaine inside, _I just want to adopt all of them; they're so cute._

By the time he'd gotten inside, Blaine was already chatting animatedly to the person who owned the pound.

'So what kind of dog are you looking for?' the man asked, grinning happily, 'it's always good to see someone who prefers to rescue the animals, rather than buy them.'

'Oh, I don't know!' Blaine babbled, 'I want a really friendly one, but not a really small one, they sort of annoy me. Um, I want one who is like, you know, smart, or easy to teach things to. Oh, and it has to have a good temperament, of course. I don't want to get bitten. And I'd rather a puppy so it could get used to me early, you know? Dogs already have memories of their old owners and if they were treated cruelly I'd rather not be attacked.'

The man laughed, 'that's quite a list. But it can be done, I'm sure. Now, this one is a lovely little boy, full of energy…'

Half an hour later, they'd looked at at least fifty puppies, and Blaine wasn't satisfied.

'I just don't know, Kurt, I want him to be perfect.' Blaine pouted, turning away from a beagle. Kurt sighed.

'Blaine, pick a dog. Seriously.'

'Alright, alright, I'll hurry up. I just – _oh my god, I want that one._' Blaine exclaimed, pointing to a corner.

It was a little German Shepherd, cowering in the corner of his cage. Blaine ran over to him and crouched down in front of the cage.

'Oh, _hello_ little one,' he cooed, the puppy perking its ears up in interest, 'Kurt, _look at him_, oh he's perfect!'

'He's a little shy,' the man called, 'you're with the German Shepherd, right? He had a rough past but I'm sure with a little love he'd be wonderful.'

'I want him.' Blaine told him resolutely, 'he's beautiful.'

The cage was opened and the puppy hoisted up by the owner of the kennel, who then passed him to Blaine, whose eyes lit up.

'Hello, Pierre!' he smiled, cuddling the puppy to his chest, 'you're coming home with me!'

Kurt raised his eyebrow at Blaine.

'Pierre?' he asked, looking skeptical.

'Georges St. Pierre, best welterweight in the world,' Blaine explained quickly, not taking his eyes off the dog, 'do you want to hold him, Kurt?'

He looked up at Kurt, his eyes wide and shining – he looked like a puppy himself. Kurt laughed and held his arms out, and Blaine passed him Pierre gently.

And that's when Kurt fell in love.

'Oh, _hello_, gorgeous,' he whispered, scratching the little puppy's nose, 'oh you're just beautiful, aren't you?'

Blaine grinned and decided to finalize the deal with the owner. He wandered off to find him, leaving Pierre with Kurt.

The owner of the pound stood at the counter at the front of the pound, waiting. Blaine smiled at him.

'How much is he?' he asked, starting to pull his wallet out, but the man waved it away.

'No, no, he's free,' he informed him, 'he's very lucky you came when you did – if no one had taken him within the next few days, we would have had to put him down.'

Blaine's eyes widened.

'Do you at least have food and other things I can get for him?' he asked. The man smiled at him and led him to the back room of the pound.

'I'm Rupert, by the way,' he told Blaine, 'these are kennels here… and there's some food; oh and there are leashes and collars and toys for him, too.'

By the time Blaine had finished picking out things for Pierre, his wallet was $200 lighter. He didn't care though – at least now he wouldn't be bored at home. He had an amazing new puppy!

Rupert helped load all the things into Kurt's car. Kurt found himself not wanting to drive home, wanting to sit in the passenger seat and play with the adorable puppy. But Blaine had pouted at him and held his arms out, clearly wanting the dog back. Kurt handed him back reluctantly and hopped into the driver's seat.

'You know, if you'd like, my mum's not home so I'm going to be home by myself… you can come over and play with Pierre?' Blaine offered, sounding tentative. Kurt nodded immediately.

'That sounds great,' he replied, smiling at Blaine, who grinned back.

Kurt knew Blaine was good looking, but he realised he'd never actually taken the time out to look at him properly. His hair was dark and very curly, but cut short and was kept neat, his skin was tanned – probably because of his Italian background – and his eyes were striking; hazel, with flecks of gold. They looked fluid and warm and reminded Kurt of coffee. It took him a moment to realize he was staring, and Blaine was looking at him curiously, so he coughed hastily and turned back to starting the car.

Somewhere deep inside, he was beginning to develop feelings for Blaine Anderson.

He only hoped he felt the same way.

* * *

><p>'Welcome home, Pierre!'<p>

Blaine set the puppy on the carpet carefully and watched as he began to tread slowly, sniffing at the floor and furniture curiously. Blaine leaned against the back of a couch as he watched fondly, 'I feel like we're parents bringing home a baby for the first time.'

Kurt raised his eyebrows at that, but Blaine merely grinned at him. He joined Blaine, leaning against the back of the couch, their hands barely brushing.

'He's absolutely adorable,' Kurt commented, watching the puppy sniff at the leg of a table and then bat at it experimentally with his paw. Blaine nodded enthusiastically.

'He's the best dog ever!' he declared, before turning to Kurt, 'do you want some food or a drink? I feel like I'm being an awful host.'

'A drink would be nice, thank you.' Kurt replied, smiling softly.

'To the kitchen then? Come on, Pierre!'

Blaine led Kurt to the kitchen, Pierre trailing behind them at his own pace. Kurt took a seat at the counter and Blaine pulled open the fridge.

'Uh, so we have water… juice… um, wine… diet Coke…'

'Diet Coke!' Kurt exclaimed. When Blaine turned and gave him a questioning look, he shrugged sheepishly, 'I just really like it. It's my favorite drink.'

Blaine grinned at him and passed him a bottle, before taking a bottle of water for himself and sitting across from Kurt.

'So…'

'So…'

There was a lull in conversation, so Blaine took a drink so it wouldn't seem as awkward.

'Where's your mum?' Kurt asked.

'She's at work, she's a doctor,' Blaine replied. Kurt's eyes lit up.

'Really? Carole is a nurse! Maybe they know each other.'

Blaine smiled at this, 'maybe! And if they do, we could have your family over for dinner one night or something.'

'Or you could come to ours!' Kurt suggested, feeling suddenly excited, 'actually, that sounds like a good idea. Would your mum happen to have a night free this week? I'm sure my family would love to meet yours, especially after you came over.'

'Oh,' Blaine winced, 'I'm really sorry about that, by the way. You didn't get in trouble, did you?'

'No, just a small interrogation. Dad's kind of glad I'm learning self defense, by the way.'

'Really? That's good then,' Blaine smiled, 'do they like… approve of me?'

'Dad was a bit iffy when he found out about the Karofsky thing,' Kurt replied honestly, 'and he was sort of annoyed when he found out I went to your house, but then Finn made this speech about how you were a great guy and help him in math and how you're really, really cool and then I stuck up for you and then Carole called you _handsome_, so he has no choice but to accept you. I'm sure he'll be a little… distant… when he first meets you, but he warms up to people quickly.'

Blaine nodded slowly, feeling a little scared. Kurt's father was a big man; he looked intimidating. He didn't want to get on his bad side and he certainly didn't want the man to not want Blaine hanging out with his son.

There was suddenly dampness on his foot and he looked down to see Pierre licking him. He grinned and picked the dog up.

'Well, at least Pierre likes me! Don't you, Pierre?' he asked the puppy, rubbing his nose against his. The puppy let out an adorable bark and Blaine cuddled him to his chest, 'thanks for coming with me today, by the way.'

'No problem.' Kurt replied, 'I already told you, you're amazing to hang out with. And today was a lot of fun, so thank you for that, too.'

Blaine smiled and then was struck with a sudden thought.

'Are you a Disney fan?' he asked Kurt, who perked up, 'I have all the movies. We could watch one, if you want?'

Kurt's smile was dazzling.

'I _love_ Disney films!' he squealed – actually _squealed _– and clapped his hands together, 'can we watch Beauty and the Beast?'

Blaine nodded eagerly and then looked hesitant.

'Um, we can watch in the lounge room or uh, my room. Whichever you want.'

Kurt thought for a moment – he knew he _should_ watch it in the lounge room, but the prospect of being alone in Blaine's room with him was too much to resist.

'Your room.' he replied, nodding resolutely. Blaine bit his lip and then nodded, before standing up and leading Kurt to his room.

Kurt hadn't noticed the TV mounted on the wall across from Blaine's bed the first time he had come over, but Blaine set Pierre down on the floor.

'Do you mind if I shut the door so he doesn't run out?' Blaine asked, biting his lip.

_He seems so shy_, Kurt thought, resisting the urge to smile as he nodded ,_it's so sweet._

'You can sit on the bed,' Blaine offered, gesturing to his bed, which was made up and covered in pillows and sheet music, 'I'll just uh, move all this.'

He dumped the sheet music unceremoniously onto his desk and Kurt sat on his bed, marveling at how soft it was. It felt like a cloud, or a marshmallow, and he couldn't help but lean back against the pillows and get comfy.

Blaine, for his part, put the movie into the DVD player and then sat on the chair at his desk. Kurt frowned at him.

'Um, what are you doing?' he asked. Blaine blushed.

'I just… didn't know if you'd want to sit on the bed with me. Um…'

Kurt rolled his eyes, shifting over, 'don't be ridiculous, come sit with me.'

Blaine bit his lip and moved over to the bed, sinking down next to Kurt. Their hands brushed and Kurt felt himself blush. It seemed different now; lying in bed together, hands touching, watching a movie. It was foreign and a different concept, he'd never done this with another boy before, but Kurt found himself enjoying it more than anything.

Blaine, on the other hand, felt his heart pounding in his chest. He felt completely nervous – he hadn't done this before and had no idea what it meant. Of course, Kurt was probably only being polite, but there was a different sort of air hanging over them, and his hand burned where it touched Kurt's.

Was a week too soon to start developing feelings for someone? Maybe, but Blaine couldn't ignore the way his heart was fluttering. Kurt was an amazing person and if he didn't like him already, he was starting to. But he wasn't going to act on these newfound feelings of his, no. He was going to be a good friend to Kurt and would try not to do anything stupid to ruin their friendship.

Suddenly, he felt Kurt's hand slip into his and hold on tightly. He glanced over at Kurt and saw his eyes were beginning to droop.

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled, 'I'm just really tired.'

Blaine looked at the clock and saw that it was only around three o'clock. Kurt could probably sleep for a few hours before having to head home, so Blaine smiled at him.

'You can sleep, if you want,' he told him softly, 'I'll wake you up when you have to leave.'

'Oh, I can't.' Kurt replied, though he stifled a yawn, 'that would be so rude. I can't just fall asleep in your house.'

Blaine rolled his eyes, 'yes you can. Go ahead, sleep.'

Kurt gave him a sleepy smile and his head dropped onto Blaine's shoulder, much to Blaine's surprise, and he was asleep a few moments later.

He stared at the TV for about ten minutes, but then his own eyes were beginning to fall. He felt suddenly tired – with the curtains drawn, the heating on and Kurt's warm body pressed up against his, he just wanted to sleep.

So he wrapped his arm around Kurt and pulled him closer, before resting his head on top of the other boy's and falling asleep.

* * *

><p>Kurt was shaken awake by an obnoxious ringing.<p>

Kurt opened his eyes sleepily, noticing that it was his phone that was ringing. He untangled himself from Blaine – when had they become so wrapped around each other? – and answered the phone, being careful not to wake Blaine.

'Hello?'

'_Hey, sweetie, it's Carole. Will you be home for dinner?'_

Kurt looked around for a clock and saw it was past five thirty. His eyes widened.

'Oh, yeah, yeah I'll be home in like ten minutes, Carole.'

'_Aright, honey. I'll see you soon._'

'Bye, Carole.' he hung up the phone, and then gently shook Blaine. Blaine sat up and rubbed at his eyes like a child.

'What time is it?' he asked, sounding half asleep.

'It's five fifty,' Kurt replied, 'we've been asleep for a while.'

Blaine looked more awake as he looked at the clock.

'Oh, shit! I didn't mean to fall asleep, I'm sorry!' he apologized. Kurt smiled at him.

'It's okay. Carole just wants me home for dinner, so I think I have to go now.'

'I'll walk you out.'

Blaine hopped off the bed and scooped Pierre up, who had fallen asleep himself on the floor at the foot of the bed. They headed downstairs and Kurt turned to Blaine and smiled.

'I had a great day,' he told him, 'I always seem to have a lot of fun when we hang out. Thank you for today.'

'No problem,' Blaine smiled, 'I had a great day, too. Thanks for helping me pick out Pierre.'

'It's no problem. I'll see you at school tomorrow?'

'Yeah, I suppose you will.'

There was a small silence – Kurt really didn't want to leave. He wanted to go back upstairs with Blaine and fall asleep in his arms again. He felt lighter, happier. He now understood why couples liked to cuddle so much.

'Well, I should go… bye, Pierre!' Kurt placed a kiss to the top of the puppy's head.

'Where's my kiss?'

The words were spoken without thought and Blaine looked horrified at his own audacity. Kurt's lips curled into a beautiful smirk and he leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to Blaine's cheek.

'I'll see you tomorrow, Blaine,' he breathed, and then was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Wednesday rolled around, Blaine felt as though he was beginning to fit into McKinley properly.

Each morning he'd go to school a little earlier and meet Kurt in the choir room, where they would be joined by various other members of the glee club; usually Tina and Mercedes and Rachel.

He discovered that the Latina girl wasn't actually so bad – her name was Santana and she had a feisty, witty attitude and after seeing her perform at glee club on Monday, found out she had an amazing voice, too.

He'd also formed a sort of bond with Mike, the dancer. He found that Mike's dance moves could help him in the cage – he moved with an immense amount of fluidity and grace. Blaine was sharper with his movements, but Mike could help him with his flexibility, something that had always troubled him after trainings and fights; his muscles were always tight and sore, but Mike showed him new ways to stretch out cramps and improve his flexibility overall.

He and Rachel were in some sort of one-sided battle; one-sided because Rachel was extremely territorial over her position as lead soloist of the New Directions and was convinced that Blaine was there to usurp her position. He'd had his time in the limelight, though, and was perfectly content in singing back up for a while, but she didn't seem up understand that.

The rest of the New Directions had embraced him with open arms, though; he got along splendidly with Puck and Finn, and had already made plans to have a video game marathon with them the upcoming weekend. He'd been introduced to Sam and Quinn, two blondes who seemed to have a thing going on between them. They were nice people; Quinn also happened to be one of the prettiest girls he'd ever met, and he noticed that Sam himself wasn't too bad looking. They kept to themselves mostly, choosing not to get involved with the drama of the club – Sam had only moved to the school at the start of the year himself – though Blaine had noticed Quinn shooting murderous looks at Rachel when the petite brunette wasn't looking.

But what Blaine enjoyed most about McKinley was the time he spent with Kurt. He was quickly forming a stronger bond with Kurt – they would spend almost all their time together during school and they had even gone out for coffee once or twice after school that week. Blaine didn't know how he felt about him; he was torn between considering him a good friend and having a serious crush on the boy. He supposed this was influenced by the fact that he didn't know how Kurt felt about him – Kurt either didn't feel anything for him romantically or he was very good at hiding his feelings for him.

But things had inevitably changed between them since they'd fallen asleep together at his house on the weekend. Now he would catch Kurt smiling at him at random moments, and when they walked their hands would either be joined or at least touching. Kurt was also a lot more physical with him; brushing their hands, touching his arm. Blaine would still recall the times Kurt kissed him on the cheek fondly, but he realised that apart from the time they had fallen asleep, he'd never actually hugged the boy properly.

It bothered Blaine. Although a fighter, and often mistaken for being heartless, he was a person who was more physical than anything else. He understood things a lot better through actions than words, and he hugged everyone. Hell, he even hugged Brittany every morning when she said hello to him.

But Kurt hadn't hugged him yet, and he was determined to make it happen.

A hug shouldn't be that big of a deal, but hugging could maybe one day lead to a kiss. And a kiss would certainly help Blaine figure out how he felt about Kurt.

Blaine had kissed a few boys in his lifetime – and a few girls, too, but they had all either been in fun or as a dare. He'd never actually had a proper, serious relationship and after getting a taste of what it was like to lay in someone's arms, to be that close to someone, he wanted more.

Perhaps that's what he felt for Kurt. Maybe he was just lonely, and Kurt was there as a form of comfort. But then again, he thought the felt something for Kurt from the start.

He was confused. He was heading to Westerville because Martin had gotten some new gloves and equipment he wanted Blaine to check out, and Blaine figured he could just ask Martin about it. Martin himself was single, but he had to have had some experience with women in his lifetime. He figured that it wouldn't be much different, Kurt wasn't the manliest boy he'd ever met – he'd mentioned in passing that he really liked romance, which Blaine knew most boys weren't really a fan of, so Martin should have been able to help.

* * *

><p>'Look, Blaine!' Martin grinned, spinning in a slow circle, arms out, 'new <em>everything<em>. We have new bags, new treadmills, we even got the matting on the cage replaced – how _cool _is that?'

Blaine nodded appreciatively, but found himself missing how broken in the gym used to be. But he would get used to it, he supposed.

'Did you win the lottery or something?' he asked, 'this can't have come cheap.'

'I've been saving up for this for ages,' Martin replied, scratching his ear, 'and well… I have some more news for you.'

'What's that?'

'We're being sponsored!' Martin exclaimed excitedly, 'well not me… _you _are being sponsored.'

Blaine did a double take, 'I'm sorry, what?'

'They heard about your big fight!' Martin explained quickly, 'and they know about your dad and your transfer and thought it made an impressive story and they wanted to sponsor you!'

Blaine frowned, 'who's sponsoring me?'

'Well… Senator Brenner and his wife…'

'No. No chance.' Blaine shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, 'that's _not _going to happen.'

'Look, I foresaw you'd have problems with this, but it's a lot of publicity and a lot of money…'

'_No_,' Blaine snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, 'cancel the sponsorship. I don't care, I don't need more money. Have you seen their campaign recently? How _against _gay rights they are?'

'Now Blaine, I know you're not out but perhaps if you kept it on the down low, you wouldn't have to have a problem with them,' Martin suggested, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. Blaine practically exploded.

'You're fucking _joking_?' he shouted, stepping away from Martin, 'you want me to hide who I am just for _money_? What the _fuck_, Martin! When did you get so fucking greedy?'

'I just thought it would be good for your career,' Martin explained desperately, 'calm down, Blaine. You know I'd never ask you to deny your true self. You're right, of course you're right. I shouldn't have asked that of you.'

Blaine was breathing hard, arms crossed firmly over his chest once more, 'I don't want to be sponsored by them. They're horrible people and I don't want _that _kind of publicity.'

'Of course,' Martin nodded, 'I'm sorry, Blaine. That was a stupid thing to suggest. I haven't drawn up any contracts or anything, but I guess I can just call and tell them we're not ready or interested or something.'

Blaine sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to simmer down the rage that was bubbling up inside of him.

'Is that where you got all this shit for the gym?' he asked eventually, 'are they trying to bribe you or something?'

'I – uh, no, the remodeling was all my doing,' Martin replied softly, 'but they did offer me a lot of money…'

'Oh, of _course_ this would have to benefit you somehow, Ortiz…'

'Blaine,' Martin reprimanded sharply, 'I want the best for you. You know that. When have I ever done anything that would jeopardize your reputation or your career?'

Blaine exhaled deeply, 'never.'

'Never.' Martin repeated, nodding with finality, 'I'll reject the offer and that's that, okay? I'm sorry.'

Blaine nodded, not trusting himself to speak right at that moment. He knew Martin was just looking out for him, but Martin was sometimes too… eccentric, and didn't think things through properly. It wasn't his fault.

He regained control of his temper and chanced a smile at his coach.

'I came here looking for advice,' he told him, 'I mean, apart to check out your new getup.'

'Advice?' Martin sat down on the floor and motioned for Blaine to do the same, 'what kind of advice?'

Blaine took a deep breath.

'How do you tell if you have a – a _thing_ for someone?' he asked, avoiding looking at Martin as he sat down.

'A thing? Is this about that boy at your school?' Martin asked curiously. Blaine shrugged.

'I – I guess.' he replied, his voice trembling slightly, 'I mean, I don't think I've ever actually _liked_ anybody before, so I don't know how I'm supposed to feel.'

'Lies, Blaine. You've liked someone before.' Martin corrected, eyes lighting up. Blaine groaned.

'_No_, no way. That doesn't count.'

'Oh, but it does,' Martin grinned, 'just… how did you feel then?'

'I – I don't know, man, I was younger then.' Blaine replied, burying his face in his hands, 'my heart was all fluttery and I'd feel nervous, like before a fight and _god_, this is so embarrassing.'

Martin laughed outright at this.

'It's fine, bud,' he assured him, 'first crushes are always embarrassing.'

'Yeah, especially when they're on your _coach_,' Blaine moaned, falling backwards so that he was staring up at the ceiling. He heard Martin laugh again.

'You were young and I'm a very attractive man,' he reasoned good-naturedly, 'and I guess I was an influential male figure in your life at the time so I –'

'Let's _not_ talk about this,' Blaine suggested, sitting up. His cheeks were bright red.

'Alright, then tell me how you feel when you're around that boy.'

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Blaine did feel a little similar to what he used to feel like around Martin. Granted, he was only thirteen or fourteen and was just beginning to question his sexuality, but while all his guy friends were chasing after boys, Blaine was staying at the gym longer than he should have and kept finding different excuses to talk to his coach. Of course, he'd blurted it all out one day during training, and Martin had simply laughed at him. Blaine was stunned; he expected Martin to stop training him and suggest he find another coach, but he had sat Blaine down and had a long talk about _feelings_ and _puberty_ and _hormones_.

But one thing that had stuck out from that conversation was the advice Martin had given him.

'Never allow anyone to get you down for being who you are, Blaine,' he'd told him sternly, 'because love is never wrong, whether you like boys or girls. You are an amazing young man and you need to have courage. Don't be ashamed of yourself and_ believe _in yourself, and believe in your right to be treated with respect.'

Martin had helped him come to terms with who he was, and after much tears and denial, Blaine had accepted he was gay. His crush on Martin had faded soon after that, but his words stayed with him to this day.

Blaine felt a little of those things for Kurt, though. Perhaps the beginning of a crush? He honestly didn't know. He knew he really, really liked being around Kurt and that Sunday was perhaps the most amazing afternoon of his life, but he didn't know how far the feelings stretched.

'I do… kind of… feel the same,' Blaine told Martin slowly, who nodded, 'but like, the more I think about it, the more I don't think I like him, if you get what I mean. I come up with all these excuses in my head.'

'Denial, maybe?' Martin suggested, 'Blaine, look, if you want my advice – don't try. Just let it come to you. If you keep thinking about it, you'll drive yourself insane. Let it happen. If it does, it does. If it doesn't, then there will be other chances for you with other guys.'

Blaine felt strange at the idea of him with other guys – probably another point in favor of him liking Kurt. He felt as though his brain had been put in a blender.

'Thanks, Martin.' he smiled genuinely at his coach, who clapped him on the shoulder.

* * *

><p>'Do you perhaps want to get coffee after school?'<p>

They were sitting in French and Kurt was smiling at him, tapping his pencil on the table expectantly. Blaine looked up from his work – not that he'd been doing it – and grinned at Kurt.

'That sounds great,' he replied, 'shall we take your car or mine?'

They'd reached an agreement that whoever was driving would follow the other home and then take them out and drop them off. They figured it would save time – and it also meant that they would be able to spend more time together.

'Uh, we'll take my car, if you want,' Kurt suggested, 'just meet me at my place.'

Blaine nodded and turned back to his work, which he couldn't grasp at all. Kurt clicked his tongue and suddenly pulled Blaine's sheet towards him.

'Hopeless…' he muttered, quickly scribbling down translations and shoving it back just as Ms. Bourgualt walked passed. She glanced at Blaine's sheet and beamed at him.

'_Magnificent, Blaine!_' she praised him, 'you're improving quickly!'

She moved on and Blaine shot Kurt a look of utter disbelief.

'You are amazing.' he told him sincerely, 'you are just utterly brilliant.'

Kurt beamed at him and they worked in silence for the rest of the lesson. Class ended, and they headed off in separate directions to their final class of the day.

Blaine was stuck with Karofsky in this class, and he spent the lesson staring at the board blankly, chin resting on his hand, while Karofsky sat behind him and pelted him with what appeared to be Tic Tacs. He sighed, exasperated and bored, and waited for 3 o'clock to roll around.

By the time it did, he had almost turned around and throttled Karofsky at least seven times. The boy was relentless – he hadn't stopped irritating him the whole lesson. But Blaine had forced himself to breathe deeply; he would be out of here and with Kurt soon. He had to calm down.

But when he stepped out to his car, he received a text from Kurt.

_Urgent fashion malfunction – Mercedes needs me! I won't be too long, just go to the Lima Bean and wait for me! xx – K _

Blaine sighed, but did as the text said. He arrived at the Lima Bean and ordered his regular medium drip, sat at their regular booth at the back of the store and waited.

He finished his coffee and Kurt still hadn't arrived. The kind young waitress who usually served him approached him, a muffin on a small plate and a coffee in her other hand.

'You look lonely,' she commented, setting the muffin and coffee down in front of him and sliding into the booth across from him, 'those are on the house, by the way. Are you waiting for your boyfriend?'

'I – uh, what?' Blaine blinked, surprised by both the free food and drink and the question. She smiled at him.

'Don't worry, I'm not going to judge,' she assured him, 'but isn't that cute brunette your boyfriend?'

'Oh,' Blaine smiled at her, 'no, no. We're um… friends. Just friends.'

The girl raised her eyebrows at him.

'Friends.' she repeated, looking unconvinced, 'of course.'

Blaine sighed, 'to be honest, I don't know how I feel about him. But we are just friends… for now.'

'Oh,' she smiled, and shifted, leaning her chin in her hand, 'do you like him, then?'

Blaine sighed again and took a sip of his coffee, surprised to find that it tasted of cinnamon. He swallowed the mouthful and looked at her, surprised.

'I kind of have your coffee orders memorized,' she admitted sheepishly, 'you guys have to be the most polite customers I get around here, it's the least I can do. I'm Madison, by the way.'

Blaine smiled at her, 'I'm Blaine.'

He was taken aback at how kind the girl was. She grinned at him.

'So, who's the boy? Tell me about him.'

'His name is Kurt.' Blaine told her, unable to stop himself from smiling softly, 'honestly, we've only known each other for like, a week and a half. I just moved down here from Westerville and we go to school together now.'

'A week and a half?' Madison repeated, surprised, 'you two seem so comfortable around each other. It seems like you've known each other for a lot longer.'

'I feel that way, too,' Blaine admitted, ducking his head to hide his blush, 'he's – he's just great. Like, really great. But I don't know if I like him.'

'You look like you do,' Madison commented, 'I mean, I know it's not my place to make assumptions but you two seem like there's something going on.'

'I didn't think there was…'

'Well, from an outsider's perspective, it certainly looks as though you two are more than just friends,' she told him, 'does he like you, at least?'

Blaine bit his lip, 'see, I have no idea. I mean, we hold hands and he's kissed me on the cheek and stuff, but I don't know if that's just what he does or if it means something more.'

'Well, kiss him then,' Madison suggested, twirling her hair around her fingers, looking excited, 'I mean, if there's something there, you'll feel it, right?'

Blaine contemplated this, but then again, he had no idea how he would get Kurt to kiss him. They barely knew each other, after all, no matter how well Blaine felt he knew him. He didn't even know if Kurt wanted to – he didn't want to spoil anything.

As if on cue, Kurt strolled into the coffee shop, cheeks and nose pink once more from the cold. Madison saw him walk in and took this as her prompt to leave.

'I'll get your coffee in a second, love,' she told Kurt as she passed him on her way back to the counter. Kurt glanced at her over his shoulder, looking pleasantly surprised.

'She seems nice,' he commented, sliding into the booth where she had been sitting.

'Her name is Madison,' Blaine told him, 'she knows our coffee orders and gave me these,' he gestured to his half drunk coffee and almost gone muffin, 'for free.'

'Hmm, that's sort of lovely.' Kurt smiled, looking over his shoulder at the young waitress again.

'She is sort of lovely. We had a nice chat.'

'Oh?'

Blaine nodded, but didn't say anything more. Kurt didn't seem to mind, though.

'I'm sorry for keeping you waiting!' he apologized, 'Mercedes… her pants ripped and well, fashion emergency.'

Blaine waved away the apology, and a moment later Madison had set down Kurt's coffee and a muffin for him.

'Everything's on the house,' she told them, shooting Blaine a wink, 'I hope you two enjoy.' Kurt beamed at her as she walked away.

'What a lovely girl!' he commented, grasping the coffee and muffin, 'um, there's a park around the back of this place… do you want to go for a walk?'

Blaine was never one to turn down a walk, so he nodded and picked up his coffee, before rummaging around in his pocket and putting a twenty dollar note in the tip jar, shooting Madison a smile. She mouthed 'good luck' to him and Kurt and Blaine left the shop, walking closely together to shield themselves from the cold.

They talked casually while they drank their coffees, the sky beginning to darken around them.

'Oh, I wish I was wearing gloves,' Kurt announced wistfully, 'my hands are _so_ cold.'

He glanced at Blaine, who suddenly felt as though he was supposed to do something about it. He hesitantly reached out and took Kurt's hand in his, and knew it was the right thing to do when Kurt's fingers tightened around his.

The volume of their conversation lowered then, and they talked quietly amongst themselves as they walked around the park.

'You know, Blaine, I feel like I've known you forever,' Kurt told him suddenly, shooting him a small glance as they completed their third lap of the park. Blaine smiled at him, his heart thudding irregularly in his chest for a moment.

'I feel the same,' he replied honestly, his voice low, 'there's something about you that makes me feel like it's been longer than a week. I feel… I don't know, different around you.'

'Comfortable?'

'Yeah.' Blaine smiled, 'comfortable.'

'You're special, Blaine,' Kurt told him, biting his lip ever so softly. Blaine's eyes widened. They'd stopped walking and were standing close together, the air around them heavy.

'So are you,' Blaine replied, squeezing his hand gently.

'I mean, not just because you're an amazing singer and a great fighter…' Kurt elaborated, and Blaine could see he was starting to blush, 'you're just a great person. You're so strong and so brave and... I really, really admire you.'

Blaine found himself biting his own lip, and he looked Kurt directly in the eyes.

'You're stronger than you give yourself credit for,' he informed him softly, 'it takes a lot of courage to go out each day the way you do – dressing how you want, acting how you want; how you _are._ How you really are inside. You're not scared of judgment and it takes a lot more courage to be able to do that than to just physically fight back. You fight back by turning up to school each day, no matter what the people might say or do to you.'

Kurt's eyes were beginning to water, and Blaine cursed himself, thinking he'd said something wrong.

'You're – you're too much…' Kurt breathed, blinking away the tears. Blaine knew then that Kurt was, if anything else, flattered by what he said. He wondered if that was romantic enough for him. But then he pushed the thoughts away – there was no ulterior motive to his words. He just wanted Kurt to know that he was amazing.

'You're so much more.'

It was word vomit, and Blaine swore internally for not being able to control his tongue sometimes. It was like the kiss comment he'd made on the weekend, except this time Kurt's lips twitched into a small, fond smile, his eyes shining in the twilight.

'Thank you.'

And then Kurt was biting his lip and leaning in slowly, and Blaine felt his breath hitch in his chest. His eyes began to flutter shut and there was a moment where Kurt's lips were not quite touching his, but he could feel his breath on his cheek, and his heart thudded in anticipation. But Kurt's head turned hesitantly at the last second and he placed a kiss – longer than all the others – on Blaine's cheek, right next to his mouth.

'I'll… I'll see you tomorrow.' he told him softly, giving his hand a squeeze before releasing it and heading off towards his car.

Blaine stared after him, his body a wash of different emotions. Above all else, he felt confused. As always, his skin tingled where Kurt had kissed him, but it was different this time. Everything was different. What had that meant to Kurt? And what did it mean to him? He was still unsure of his feelings, but they were beginning to sharpen and become a little more clear. This clearly wasn't just friendship – but it wasn't something more. It was caught somewhere in between and whatever happened between them next could be a push forward into something deeper than friendship, or it could pull them back into the friend-zone. Since Blaine didn't know what he wanted, he decided to take it slow and let it pan out as it did.


	9. Chapter 9

'Carole wanted to know if you and your mother would like to come over for dinner tonight,' Kurt told him as they walked to their cars on Friday afternoon, which they'd gotten into the habit of parking next to each other, 'so do you want to come over?'

'Mum's not working tonight, so I don't think it would be a problem,' Blaine replied, smiling, 'but I'll ask her when I get home. It's been a while since we went out to dinner.'

'It's been a while since we had anyone over for dinner apart from Finn and Carole, but they're part of the family now so it doesn't really count… Anyway, I hope you can come! And dress nicely. Mum's putting me in charge of decorating so you _know _it'll be a formal affair.'

'Do I have to wear a suit or something?' Blaine asked nervously. He used to go to formal dinner events when he was at Dalton and he'd never known how to behave properly – he wasn't fancy at heart; as much money as he had, he just didn't fit into a high class lifestyle.

'No, no,' Kurt laughed, unlocking his car, 'just… I don't know, dress shoes, dress shirt. You have those, don't you?'

Blaine nodded, unlocking his own car. Kurt grinned at him.

'I'll see you tonight then, hopefully. Come at around six!'

He hopped into his car and drove off. Blaine got into his own car and fired up the engine, gripping the wheel tightly.

He was nervous, he would freely admit it. He wanted to make a good, lasting impression on Kurt's family – and he wanted Kurt's father to actually like him.

When he got home, he found his mother upstairs in his room, folding away his clothes.

'Oh, hello sweetie,' she smiled when she saw him. Blaine grinned at her.

'We're going out tonight,' he informed her, already starting to rummage through his closet for clothes. His mother sat on the edge of the bed and scratched Pierre on the head as he began to bat at her feet playfully. She had been over the moon when he'd come home with the puppy – she knew how lonely Blaine had been getting, and honestly, she was a little lonely herself. The dog was like a breath of fresh air to them; he kept them entertained and oddly enough, brought him and his mother together a little more.

'Where are we going?' she asked, 'I wasn't aware that you'd booked anything.'

'No,' Blaine turned and smiled at her, 'we're having dinner with Kurt's family tonight.'

His mother raised her eyebrows at him, amusement clear on her face. Blaine felt his face heat up.

'We're just friends, mum!'

'A little soon to be meeting the parents, don't you think?' she quipped, getting to her feet, 'I have nothing against that. What do I wear?'

'Um, Kurt said it was going to be a formal dinner,' Blaine replied, 'so I need your help. What do I wear?'

His mother pushed him aside gently and started looking through his closet, pulling out a pair of tailored dress pants and a simple dark dress shirt.

'Wear your good shoes and gel your hair,' she told him, 'and shave – you don't want to look scruffy.'

Blaine nodded, but glanced at the clock. It was barely 3:30.

'We don't have to be there until six,' he told her, 'and he only lives a few streets away from here, so I dunno, I'll just go work on the bag for a little bit and then I'll shower and get dressed.'

His mother nodded and went to her own room to find something to wear. Blaine headed downstairs into the backyard, Pierre trailing behind him.

Once he got downstairs, he realised he wasn't really in the proper attire to change, so he had to go all the way back upstairs to throw on his training gear.

When he was downstairs again, he took out all of his nerves on the bag – his nervousness about meeting Kurt's family properly, about having to impress them, about whether they would approve of him or not. What if they didn't want him to hang around with Kurt anymore? With each kick and punch, he let go of some of his anxiety and he slowly started to feel calmer. He would be fine. He was a good person and he would make it through dinner fine.

His phone told him it was now 5.02 and he decided he should go upstairs and shower and shave.

By the time he was done, it was around 5.30. He looked in the mirror and sighed, opening a bottle of hair gel. Honestly, he thought he'd been done with the gel after he'd finished at Dalton, but he had to look presentable. He squeezed a reasonable amount onto his hand and began to style his hair into something halfway decent.

He got dressed and went to find his mother, who was waiting for him downstairs. Her own curls were styled perfectly and she was wearing makeup for the first time since the summer. She looked young and happy and beautiful again.

'Mum, you look great,' Blaine told her, smiling as he got his keys from the table in the hall.

'So do you, sweetie,' she replied, 'very handsome. I'm sure Kurt's family is going to love you.'

'Mum, I'm not even dating Kurt,' Blaine rolled his eyes, though he was secretly pleased that he looked alright, 'so who cares. I'll drive, I know how to get there.'

* * *

><p>'Oh, come in, come in!' Carole ushered them inside the moment she'd opened the door, smiling brightly, 'I'm Carole, you must be Blaine's mother!'<p>

'My name is Clarissa,' Clarissa smiled, kissing Carole on both cheeks. Carole beamed at her and then turned to Blaine.

'You look _very_ handsome, Blaine,' she told him, winking, 'Kurt is downstairs in his room, it's at the end of the hallway on the left. Oh, and the stairs are at the end of this hall. Dinner will be ready soon.'

Blaine smiled at her and found the staircase, heading downstairs. He liked Kurt's house; it reminded him of his old one. Not that they looked anything alike – they just felt like homes that were loved and cherished. He wished his own house had that kind of feel.

Kurt's door was shut, so he knocked. A few moments later Kurt opened it.

Kurt looked at Blaine and opened his mouth to speak, but found he had no words. His eyes travelled up Blaine, his cheeks starting to burn. Blaine felt his own cheeks begin to turn pink.

'You, uh,' Kurt started, stammering slightly, 'you look amazing.'

'Speak for yourself,' Blaine replied easily, and he meant it. Kurt looked absolutely perfect. He was wearing tight black jeans and a silky cerulean button up shirt, with a white bow tie. His hair was coiffed perfectly and his skin was glowing. Honestly, Blaine thought he was the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen.

Kurt smiled shyly at him and then stepped back, 'this is my room. Do you want to come in?'

Blaine nodded and stepped into the room, and to his surprise, Kurt shut the door behind them. He looked at him questioningly, and Kurt looked sheepish.

'Just… so we're not interrupted.'

Blaine nodded again, slower this time, and looked around the room. There was a huge walk in wardrobe off to one side, and the rest of the room was tastefully decorated in shades of black and ivory. Blaine sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Kurt rummaged through his drawers and pulled out a bottle of perfume.

'Armani Code,' he winked at Blaine, spraying the perfume onto his neck and wrists. The scent wafted over to Blaine and he blinked; it smelt amazing. He probably smelt like body wash and deodorant and cursed himself for not remembering to use his cologne.

Then Kurt came and sat next to him on the bed, their knees touching. Blaine felt heat flood through him as Kurt sat down, smiling at him softly.

'So, I'd like to thank you for coming over.' Kurt told him, reaching out and taking his hand. Blaine bit his lip.

'Thank you for inviting me,' he replied softly. Kurt's smile widened.

'I like your hair like this,' he commented, reaching out with his free hand to touch Blaine's hair. Blaine resisted the urge to shiver as Kurt's fingers brushed over his hair, 'though I must admit, I like it when it's curly, too.'

'Your hair is perfect all the time,' Blaine informed him, 'even when I came over and it wasn't styled. You always manage to look great.'

Kurt ducked his head and grinned at that.

'You're so sweet, Blaine,' he told him quietly, his hand dropping onto Blaine's shoulder.

Their eyes locked as Kurt looked up, and Blaine felt his heart skip. He noticed Kurt's breathing become more shallow, and his own picked up considerably.

'You know,' Kurt started after a moment of silence, his tone soft, 'I've never met someone quite like you. I've never met someone I've connect with so easily… you just, you're such an amazing boy and I'm so, so glad I've met you.'

Blaine swallowed the lump in his throat, 'you're easily the most beautiful person I've met. I've never come across someone so true to themselves and to the people around them.'

His voice was quiet, as to not break the fragile air between them. He saw Kurt bite down on his lip softly and he knew that if there was ever a time to kiss Kurt, now was it.

He lifted his hand, his fingers tracing over Kurt's cheekbones, brushing lightly over the porcelain skin. He could hear Kurt's breath hitch slightly in his throat, shaky with nerves. Their eyes were locked together, shining brightly with expectation and want. Blaine could feel his heart pick up speed, beating almost erratically.

'You don't know how glad I am that I met you, Blaine,' Kurt told him, voice barely above a whisper. His hand, trembling slightly, moved to cup Blaine's own cheek. The air around them hung heavy with excitement and apprehension; Blaine felt a rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

'This might sound stupid, and I know we haven't known each other for long, but I feel like you're one of the most important people in my life,' Blaine breathed, not trusting himself to speak any louder.

His hand moved to cup Kurt's cheek more securely, and he saw Kurt's eyes begin to flutter shut. He leaned forward instinctively, his hand releasing Kurt's so he could wrap it around his waist, his eyes closing as his lips brushed against Kurt's the slightest amount before –

The door was flung open and they jumped apart as though shocked. Finn stood in the doorway, cheeks flaming, looking incredibly sheepish.

'I'm so sorry, guys!' he apologized quickly, 'um, dinner's ready. Carole sent me down to tell you.'

Kurt's eyes narrowed, 'we'll be right up.'

Blaine felt awkward as he followed Kurt up the stairs into the dining room. The parents were already seated, chatting comfortably. Kurt slipped into chair next to Carole, and Blaine sat next to him. Finn sat across from them, but didn't make eye contact.

'So, Blaine,' Burt began, turning his attention onto the boy, who suddenly felt nervous, 'Kurt and Finn tell me you're a fighter.'

Blaine nodded and swallowed the mouthful of food he'd been chewing.

'Yes, sir,' he replied politely, 'I've been training in various formed of mixed martial arts since I was seven, but kickboxing is the main style I fight in.'

'You don't seem like the fighting type,' Burt commented.

'My father was a professional when he was younger,' Blaine told him, feeling a painful pang in his chest at the mention of his dad, 'so it's something that's been in my family since I was a kid.'

'What does your father do now?' Burt asked.

'Um, he died.' Blaine replied softly, looking down at his plate. There was a silence and Kurt glared at his father.

'Nice one, dad. So tactful.' he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

'I'm sorry, son,' Burt apologized kindly, and Blaine shot him a small, forgiving smile, 'I had no idea. But it's something you're really passionate about, isn't it? Kurt mentions that you train almost every day.'

Blaine brightened up at that, 'my title fight is in March, so I have to train a lot so I can get my strength and my fitness up. My competition is undefeated and it's going to be really, really hard to beat him so I have to make sure I have the best advantage I can. I mean, my ground work needs a lot of work but if he doesn't get me to the floor, he doesn't have a chance at beating me.'

Conversation was decidedly more lighthearted after that, and after a while Burt stopped interrogating Blaine and turned back to talk to Carole and Clarissa. Kurt used the distraction as an opportunity to take Blaine's hand under the table and give it a reassuring squeeze.

'I'm sorry he's so tactless,' he apologized quietly, 'he usually just talks without thinking.'

'It's alright,' Blaine shrugged, 'he couldn't have known.'

'He seems to like you, at least,' Kurt informed him with a smile, 'he wouldn't talk to you so much if he didn't.'

'I was worried he wouldn't like me,' Blaine admitted, 'whenever older people find out I fight, they think I'm some sort of blood thirsty psycho. But fighting is a sport, too. They don't get that.'

After dinner, Clarissa helped Carole clear the table and Burt retreated to the living room to watch a football game on television. Rachel had called Finn, so he had taken the call in his room, and Blaine and Kurt were left alone.

'Um, do you want to go back to my room?' Kurt asked hesitantly. Blaine nodded, and they headed downstairs, and the door was shut once more.

But strangely, they spent the evening listening to music and simply talking, and the subject of the kiss wasn't even breached. This bothered Blaine slightly – did it mean nothing to Kurt?

He had felt a rush of emotions as his lips had grazed Kurt's, and he was starting to feel something more for his friend. The feelings he had been denying had bubbled up, and now even looking at Kurt sent his stomach turning nervously. But Kurt was acting normally around him; which probably meant that the feelings weren't reciprocated.

In all honesty, it made him feel a little sad. He watched Kurt talk animatedly about his favorite musicals and all he could think about were those lips, and how they'd felt against his, even for the smallest second.

Suddenly, Blaine heard his name being called from the top of the stairs.

'Blaine, honey, we're going now!'

He heard Kurt groan and he himself felt a bit put out.

'Do you have to go? You can just stay the night.'

Blaine contemplated this, but then again, Burt probably wouldn't want him staying the night. Even so, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

'Ask your parents, I'll ask mum.'

He headed upstairs and pulled his mum to this side.

'Mum, I really don't want to go and Kurt wants me to stay over. Is that okay with you?'

Clarissa sighed, 'Blaine… I trust you two will be safe?'

'_What_?' Blaine gasped, outraged, 'we're not doing that… _stuff_!'

'I trust you,' Clarissa told him, 'if it's fine with Carole and Burt, it's fine with me.'

Blaine shot her a winning smile and they waited for Kurt to reappear. When he did, he was smiling.

'Carole and dad said it was fine if you stayed,' he told him excitedly, 'oh – thank you for coming, Mrs. Anderson. I hope you enjoyed dinner.'

'It was lovely, Kurt,' she assured him, 'we'll have to do it again sometime. Blaine, honey, I'll see you tomorrow?'

'Yeah, I'm going to Westerville later in the day so I'll see you tomorrow night.'

She kissed him on the cheek and was gone. Kurt turned to Blaine.

'Alright, you can stay in my room but only if the door is open,' he rolled his eyes, 'Burt has this whole trust thing going but if he's even letting you spend the night in my room, he must like you. Oh, and I have things you can change into – they might be a bit big, but I'm sure it'll do.'

He led Kurt to his room once again and went into his closet, reemerging a minute later holding a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

'Here you go,' he told him brightly, passing him the clothes, 'the bathroom is in there, I'll just change in the closet.'

He pointed to a door and Blaine went into the bathroom, noting the extensive bottles of skin care creams on the cabinet. He changed quickly, not wanting to keep Kurt waiting, and walked out into Kurt's room just as Kurt was stripping off his pants.

Blaine's eyes widened and Kurt cried out in shock. Blaine buried his face in his hands.

'I'm sorry!' he squeaked, retreating into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him quickly. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and saw that he was bright red. And then he remembered Kurt's long, slender legs and he bit his lip to stop from groaning.

There was a hesitant knock on the door and Blaine opened it slowly, seeing an equally red-faced Kurt staring back at him.

'I'm, uh, done,' he told him, looking down at the floor. Blaine nodded at him and stepped into the room, trying not to seem awkward.

After all, situations were only awkward if you made them.

'So, um, what do you want to do?' Kurt asked, his cheeks still pink. Blaine shrugged.

'Whatever you want to do,' he replied casually, sitting down on the bed. Kurt sighed.

'Can I ask you something?' he asked quietly. Blaine laughed.

'You just did,' he retorted playfully, 'but of course.'

'What did you um… what did that kiss mean? For you, I mean.' Kurt asked shyly, looking at the floor, 'because that wasn't just a kiss for me…'

Blaine bit his lip, 'well… I – honestly, Kurt, I don't know. I know it didn't mean just… something friendly. I think – I think it was more than that. But I… don't know how I feel. Not completely.'

Kurt nodded.

'I – I feel the same,' he replied quietly, looking up. Blaine was surprised to see his eyes shining with tears, 'I mean, I've never felt this confused about someone in my life. I keep telling myself, no, it's too soon to like him but then there's a part of me that just_… does_, you know? I don't know what to do.'

Blaine sighed softly.

'You don't have to do anything, Kurt,' he assured him gently, 'not right away. You can take as much time as you want to figure things out – I know I need some time. I've never had a boyfriend before. I don't know how it's meant to feel.'

'Neither do I, really…' Kurt agreed, 'I've never had a boyfriend either.'

He looked miserable and Blaine felt his heart sink, so he held his arms out.

'What I do know, though, is that when we fell asleep together last weekend… I've never felt so safe in my life.'

Kurt fell into his embrace and Blaine wrapped his arms around him tightly, leaning his cheek on the top of Kurt's head.

'We can do that again tonight, if you'd like,' Kurt told him, 'I can put a movie on and we can watch and sleep all of tonight and tomorrow.'

'I have to go to Westerville,' Blaine told him grudgingly, 'but tonight, that's what we can do. You don't know how much I like spending time with you, Kurt.'

Kurt hummed in response and then shifted backwards, pulling Blaine further onto the bed with him.

'Stay here,' he ordered, 'I'm going to put a movie in. What do you want to watch?'

'Anything,' Blaine replied, 'I don't think I'll be able to stay awake much longer, anyway.'

Kurt got up and popped in _Hairspray _and turned the lights off, leaving the door open a tiny bit.

'So dad is satisfied,' he explained, before rejoining Blaine on the bed.

'It's cold,' Blaine commented after a little while. Kurt smiled at him, 'come on.'

He turned the covers down and the boys got under them, Blaine pulling Kurt into his arms and holding him tight. Kurt leaned his head against Blaine's chest and Blaine traced random patterns along his arm, slowly lulling him to sleep.

Eventually he was asleep, and Blaine felt himself being drawn into the land of dreams himself. He stopped for a moment to truly appreciate the situation he was in; the warm bed, Kurt's arms… he didn't expect to find this in Lima – or Ohio, for that matter. He silently thanked the universe for giving him some good luck for the first time in months, and with that thought, closed his eyes and slowly drifted off.


	10. Chapter 10

Monday rolled around, and Blaine's feelings for Kurt were intensifying with every passing day.

They hadn't spoken about it since Blaine had stayed over Kurt's, but they seemed to be able to communicate it with their eyes. Their interest in each other was growing, and in English that morning they'd flirted openly, much to the delight of Tina, who repeatedly squealed about how they'd make the perfect couple.

They'd both turned slightly pink at the thought of being a couple; neither of them had any experience and, while the idea was exciting, it was slightly daunting at the same time. They'd be flying blind; and that could either be a blessing or a disaster.

What he did know now though was that he d definitely felt for Kurt – more than just friends. He gave him a thrill that not even fighting could give him, and his heart would beat a little quicker at the sound of his voice. He was falling, and quickly so, but he knew that he should keep his feelings to himself until Kurt himself was ready to decide what the next step in their relationship was. He didn't want to rush things, and he certainly didn't want to push Kurt to the point of losing him.

He was perfectly content with getting coffee with him – which he had done on Saturday before he went to Westerville and on Sunday night – and he felt warm inside whenever they'd hold hands or Kurt would kiss him on the cheeks. They hadn't kissed again, not properly, but Blaine was fine with having his arms wrapped around the beautiful boy, shielding him from the cold and the dangers of the world.

So naturally, Blaine now felt a little bit protective of Kurt, and when Kurt rushed into the choir room at lunch, tears streaming down his face, Blaine's heart had jumped into his throat with worry.

'Kurt,' he breathed as Kurt launched himself into Blaine's arms, 'Kurt, what the matter?'

Kurt sobbed openly into his chest, his body shaking with sobs. Blaine bit his lip and rubbed his back, keeping his arms tight around him.

'K-Karofsky.' Kurt managed to choke after a few moments. He looked up at Blaine with wide, tear filled eyes. His cheeks were pink and his eyes were rimmed red from crying. There was also the beginning of a spectacular bruise on his jaw.

Blaine felt rage crash through him – Karofsky. Had he hit Kurt?

'What did he do, Kurt?' Blaine asked softly, knowing that if he lost his temper now it would scare Kurt off even more. Kurt gulped in a huge lungful of air, trying to control his sobbing.

'He – he –' he started, voice thick with emotion, 'after c-class, he pushed me in the hallway. A-and I – I thought about, y-you know, standing up for my-myself.'

He took a deep breath then to steady himself and choked out, 'I – I followed him t-to t-the boy's l-locker room. W-we yelled for a bit and – and then he…'

'He what, Kurt?' Blaine asked, his voice dangerously quiet. Kurt broke into a wave of fresh sobs.

'He pushed me up against a locker and k-kissed me!' Kurt wailed, 'then w-when I pushed him off, he t-tried to again and I – I pushed him again and he – he slammed my h-head against the locker!'

That explained the bruise. But Blaine could practically feel the anger and hate spreading through his veins. He was going to find Karofsky, and he was going to beat the living daylights out of him.

Kurt was sobbing into his shoulder again, so Blaine carefully released him and stood up. Kurt's eyes followed him.

'Where are you going?' he asked, his voice small and scared. Blaine's eyes flashed.

'I'm going to find him and kill him.' he replied darkly, before storming from the room.

* * *

><p>Karofsky had been gathering books from his locker when he felt someone grab him by the collar and hurl him to the floor.<p>

'What the fuck, Anderson?' he snapped, getting to his feet clumsily. A few people began to turn, intrigued at the sudden confrontation. Blaine's eyes were dark with what could only be identified with pure hatred.

'Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, Karofsky?' Blaine demanded venomously, 'you think you're some sort of top shit, bullying people – _assaulting them – _thinking you're better than everyone?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.' Karofsky insisted, though his own tone was biting, 'so why don't you fuck off, Anderson.'

'What the fuck did you do to Kurt in the locker room, then?' Blaine spat, 'if you have a fucking problem, leave him the fuck alone. You take it up with _me._'

'You'd better watch your mouth, Anderson! I might have to punch it shut if you don't stop making crazy shit up!'

'Come on then!' Blaine challenged, 'no, I'm not asking you. I'm _telling _you. You and I are going to fight, _right now_, and I'm going to make you regret even being fucking born.'

As he spoke, he took his jacket off and threw it to the floor, and Karofsky had to admit that he felt a little bit intimidated at the challenge.

But he felt as though he could beat Blaine – he was smaller and obviously weaker than he was, no matter how badly he had bruised him. He had just caught him unprepared; he would win this time.

There was a crowd at this point, watching on a hushed amazement as Blaine stared at Karofsky, waiting. Karofsky stepped forward and unleashed a powerful right hook and –

_Crack_.

Blaine's fist collided with Karofsky's cheek savagely, and he could feel the bone break beneath his hand. Karofsky cried out in hock and pain, but Blaine merely grabbed him by the jacket and hurled him to the floor, sending him skidding across the linoleum. He threw himself on top of Karofsky, fist pounding into his face ruthlessly, punching every part he could reach. Karofsky squirmed beneath him and managed to throw him off, sending Blaine crashing into the lockers behind him. He winced as his head smashed into a lock – he could feel the back of his head split and the hot blood rush from the wound. The injury only seemed to make him angrier and – bleeding profusely – seeing Karofsky stand, he quickly scrambled to his feet and spin kicked him expertly in the head. Karofsky staggered backwards and Blaine launched another perfect, incredibly powerful kick to the boy's head.

Karofsky's eyes rolled into his head as he crumpled to the floor, and Blaine resisted the urge to spit on him. He was shaking and his vision was beginning blur from the blood he was losing. He pushed through he stunned crowd, head aching severely.

He didn't go to the nurse – he headed from the school to his car, which was probably the last thing he should have done. However, his brain was a mess from the blood loss and the anger, and the keyed the ignition anyway and with trembling hands tried to drive home.

His eyes were beginning to droop at this point and he couldn't concentrate at all. He swerved into incoming traffic a few times, earning himself honks and abuse from other drivers, but miraculously made it home in one piece. He went around the back to avoid his mother, who would undoubtedly be in the kitchen, and headed straight up to his room, where he collapsed face first onto his bed and allowed the darkness to take him.

* * *

><p>Blaine cracked his eyes open, the intensely bright light burning his vision. He winced as a sharp throb went through his head, and as he went to touch his head, a sharp pain shot through his hand, too.<p>

Where was he?

He opened his eyes fully and saw he was in a bed; not his own, however. He looked down to his hand and followed a tube coming from it, seeing he was hooked up to a drip.

He didn't remember falling asleep; however he did recall fighting Karofsky and hurting his head.

'Blaine? Oh, thank god, you're awake!' Blaine turned his head slowly to see Martin staring at him, utter relief painted on his face.

Blaine frowned.

'Where am I?' he asked, his voice scratching his throat.

'In hospital, buddy. You sustained a serious head injury in a fight.'

Blaine stared at him, knowing he wasn't finished. Suddenly Martin swore under his breath and looked at Blaine sharply.

'What were you thinking, Blaine?' he demanded, voice echoing around the hospital room, 'were you thinking at _all_? Why do you keep getting yourself into stupid fights and risking your life before your title match?'

'He assaulted Kurt!' Blaine exploded, feeling the rage bubble up again, 'he assaulted him physically and sexually and Kurt was a _mess_, and I couldn't let him get away with it!'

'There are _teachers_ for that, Blaine! The principal! You could have taken it to the office or something – you could have called _me_.' Martin told him, his tone desperate, 'you don't handle things like that _yourself_. What the fuck happened to you anyway?'

'It's not like he inflicted the injury,' Blaine replied, 'the fucker kicked me off him and I hit a locker and the lock cut me up.'

'It cut you up, alright. You've been out all night!' Martin informed him, 'and most of the day. It's Tuesday afternoon, Blaine. You lost a lot of blood. And for what?'

'For… justice?' Blaine replied, feeling terribly cheesy. Martin rolled his eyes at him and ran a hand through his cropped hair.

'Did you at least win the fight?'

Blaine smirked at this, 'knocked him out.'

He could see the corners of Martin's mouth begin to pull up in a smile, but he was fighting it desperately.

'While I don't approve of this _at all_,' he told Blaine, 'I am glad that you beat him. I think I would have come down and kicked the shit out of him myself if you'd lost. What happened to Kurt, anyway?'

Blaine explained how he had come to him crying and told him how Karofsky had kissed him and then hit his head against the locker. Martin looked torn between disgust and outrage.

'What? But he was getting up on you for being gay. What does that make him, if he's going around and kissing boys?'

Blaine hadn't thought of that. Karofsky could really be struggling with himself right now, and he knew what it was like to be unsure of who you were. Still, he felt no sympathy for him. He could have found a better way to experiment with his sexuality, not attack the boy he'd had his heart set on.

'Has Kurt come to visit at all?' he asked conversationally, trying not to sound desperate. Martin raised his eyebrows at him.

'Well, he's actually in the cafeteria right now,' he replied, 'we briefly introduced ourselves and then he rushed out because he's 'not good with hospitals' and went to get a coffee or something. Should I call him up?'

Blaine struggled into a sitting position, ignoring the panging in his head. Martin looked amused.

'By the way, they shaved part of your hair off so that they could stitch your hair up.'

Blaine's eyes widened.

'_What_?' he exclaimed, bringing his free hand up to touch the back of his head. Sure enough, he could feel the fuzz of a shaved head, and his mouth dropped open, 'how stupid do I look?'

'Quite.'

'Kurt can't come in here!' Blaine babbled, 'not a chance, he's going to think I'm ugly and I'm never going to get a chance with him if he does and this is _not_ good. He can't come in here!'

'Relax, Blaine,' Martin laughed easily, 'he's already seen it. While you were asleep. And he was fine with it, so calm down. I think he's a little more shocked that you beat up Karofsky for him.'

'Did he seem… upset?'

'He seemed worried,' Martin replied, 'and really impressed. He didn't see the fight but it was filmed by one of your friends and it's been passed around, from what I heard.'

Blaine winced. It a teacher or the principal saw that, he could be in a lot of trouble.

Martin opened his mouth to say something more but was interrupted by Kurt walking through the door, coffee in hand.

'Is he awake y– oh, Blaine, hi.'

He sounded breathless, but his expression was worried beyond believe. Blaine smiled at him weakly, and Martin cleared his throat.

'Well, get better Blaine,' he told him, 'you'll be expected to train twice as hard next time I see you. And I'll kill you next time you fight someone.'

He nodded at Kurt and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Kurt perched on the edge of the chair next to Blaine bed and covered his hand with his own.

'How are you feeling?' he asked, setting his coffee down on the bedside table. Blaine shrugged.

'I have a headache but I'm feeling okay,' he replied, 'what about you? How are you holding up?

'I – I kind of wanted to talk to you about that…'

Blaine looked at him curiously, not liking the way this was heading. Kurt sighed.

'Blaine, you are completely amazing, okay?' he started, giving his hand a squeeze, 'and it has nothing to do with you. First of all, I'd like to thank you for standing up to me like that; even if you got hurt in the process. That was possibly the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, so thank you so, so much.'

Blaine nodded slowly, knowing the worst was coming.

'But,' Kurt sighed, 'after the thing with Karofsky… I'm not ready for a relationship. I – I had my first _proper_ kiss forced onto me and – and I just don't think I'm ready to dive into something with you. I know you're different, Blaine, and I know that you would never force me into anything, but I don't think I could do it. When we decide we're ready for a relationship, I want to be the best I can be for you. Right now, I can't. I'm sorry, and I hope you respect my decision.'

'I'll wait,' Blaine assured him quickly, 'I'm not going anywhere, Kurt. I can't imagine what you feel like now, but I hope you know that I'm always here for you if you need me.'

Kurt nodded and lifted Blaine's hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

'I have to go now,' he told Blaine, 'but… text me when you get out of here so I can take you out for coffee or something. It's the least I can do after all you've done for me.'

Blaine nodded mutely and Kurt left, shutting the door behind him. Blaine exhaled shakily, his thoughts swirling painfully around his head.

He respected Kurt, of _course _he did. He'd just gone through a lot and he had no idea how to help him cope with it, but at the same time, he felt more than a little disappointed. He was so close, _so close_, to being able to call Kurt his, and Karofsky had ruined everything. If anything, it made him want to punch him even harder.

What bothered him most was that _nothing _seemed to be going right for him right now. Just mere days ago he had fallen asleep with Kurt. Now he had to wait for who knows how long. Not that Kurt wasn't worth it – he was – but he was bruised, battered and hurt, and he just wanted something he could be happy with.

If things continued to go this downhill, there was no way he would win his title fight. That was his dream, right?

He was letting his feelings get in the way of his destiny, and he couldn't allow that anymore. Martin was completely right – he hadn't thought about it at all. What if he had hurt himself so severely in the fight that the championship was lost forever?

He had been focused before he met Kurt, and perhaps Kurt wanting his own space could mean that Blaine could get his own priorities straight. It was time he stopped being a child and acted more like an adult – like a _winner_.

So he would give Kurt his space – as much as it would hurt, he knew it would – and he would apply himself to his fighting, because in the end, it was the only thing he could rely on.


	11. Chapter 11

Blaine returned to school on Friday, but as soon as he'd gotten to his first class of the day, his teacher had sent him to the principal's office.

He should have expected it, really. In hindsight, attacking Karofsky – _knocking him out _– was undoubtedly the stupidest thing he had done to date. Acting in his anger always, _always_, got him into trouble, and he'd never once stopped to think of the consequences of his actions. Attacking Karofsky had been the same – fighting someone in the middle of lunch in a corridor at school wasn't very smart.

When he reached the reception, having had to stop to ask someone for directions, he was surprised to see both his mother _and _Martin sitting there, his mother looking paled and worried, Martin just looking annoyed.

'Mum? Martin?' he asked, stepping into the office, 'what are you guys doing here?'

They merely shook their heads at him and his mother wiped a strand of hair away from her face. Blaine bit his lip and sat down – exactly how much trouble would he be in?

They waited in an uncomfortable silence for a while before being called into the office. Principal Figgins sat behind the desk and he motioned for them to sit down, looking at Blaine disapprovingly.

'So, um, why am I here?' Blaine asked after a moment of silence, during which Figgins scrutinized him. He felt mildly uncomfortable.

'Mr. Anderson,' he began, his voice monotonous, 'you are in here for assaulting another student! We have video evidence of you attacking one Mr. Karofsky in the corridor at lunchtime on Monday.'

'He hit me first.' Blaine argued childishly, crossing his arms over his chest. His mother rolled her eyes at him.

'That may be so, but the blow never even connected, Mr. Anderson!'

'I felt threatened!' Blaine replied, 'you would too if he took a swing at you.'

'Blaine –' Martin interrupted sharply, 'you're getting yourself into more trouble. Principal Figgins, would you happen to have a copy of that video? I wanted to see it for myself.'

Figgins did, and he pulled out his phone and brought the video up, handing the phone to Martin, who watched the video, looking impressed as the video went on.

'That was a nice kick –'

'Martin!' Clarissa admonished sharply. She turned to Principal Figgins, 'what punishment do you have planned for Blaine?'

'I have no choice but to suspend Mr. Anderson,' Figgins told them sternly, 'for a whole week, effective immediately.'

'What!' Blaine protested, 'a whole week? But I was hurt more than he was! He's bruised and I ended up in hospital! Are you not going to punish him? And what about Kurt – he assaulted him in the locker room!'

'Mr. Hummel has not come to me about any sort of locker room incident,' Figgins told him evenly, 'Mr. Karofsky has received a four day suspension, which should be up soon.'

Blaine cursed under his breath, which earned him a sharp slap to the shoulder by Martin. He took a deep breath.

'Is that all?' he asked, trying to keep his voice flat. Principal Figgins nodded.

'You will be permitted back at school next Friday,' he told him, 'you are allowed on school grounds only to collect school work, but nothing else.'

Blaine nodded, breathing heavily. His mother bit his lip.

'Thank you for your time, Principal Figgins,' she told him, standing up and leading the way out of the office. As soon as they were in the corridors – which were empty as the rest of the children were in class – she turned to Blaine and sighed.

'Blaine… sweetie, I don't know what you were thinking.'

'He hurt Kurt, mum,' Blaine told her softly, 'and after everything I've lost this year, I don't want to lose him, too. He's so damaged.'

Clarissa looked torn, but knew she had to reprimand her son.

'Blaine, look, that's still not an excuse,' she reminded him, 'you know how skilled you are and you could have seriously injured that boy. I know you were trying to defend your friend but –'

'He's not just a friend,' Blaine interrupted crossly, 'well; it wasn't _going _to be like that. But Karofsky kissed him and now he's too scared for a relationship and I'm stuck in the friend-zone again.'

Clarissa felt her heart drop – she knew how much that would have angered Blaine, coming so close to being truly happy with someone and having it wrenched away from him. She took his hand and squeezed it gently.

'So we've decided,' Martin interjected, stepping up to them, 'that for the duration of your suspension, you'll be staying up in Westerville with me – no Lima, no distractions.'

'You can't just expect me to drop everything in Lima!' Blaine protested, 'you already made me do that a month ago when I came here! Why are you guys being so unfair?'

'It's just for the week,' Martin assured him quickly, 'you can meet up with your Dalton friends and we can train properly and we can work on sorting out your anger.'

'Sorting out my anger?'

'We want you to see a psychologist, sweetie,' his mother told him gently, 'you've had a rough year.'

Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but knew it would be futile. When his mother and Martin banded together over something, he knew there was no chance in trying to convince him otherwise.

'I'm not going to get a say in this, am I?'

'No.'

Blaine sighed in frustration, 'whatever. I'm going to wait in the car.'

He stalked out of the school, leaving Martin and Clarissa alone. After a moment, Martin composed himself and reached out, taking Clarissa's hand in his.

'Do you think I should have been harsher with my punishment?' Clarissa asked him, sounding worried.

'I don't think so,' Martin replied honestly, 'I mean, he was suspended, he was injured and he sort of lost the boy he's been chasing. And we're taking him away from Lima and making him see a psych, which he'll hate. So I think the consequences are harsh enough.'

'I can't thank you enough for this, Martin,' she told him softly. Martin smiled at her.

'If you need anything, Clarissa, _anything_, don't even hesitate.' he replied, as Clarissa squeezed his hand.

'Thank you. You've done so much for us after Jon…'

'I know it hurts. It hurts me, too. He was my best friend,' Martin paused, blinking back tears, 'but we're going to get through this, okay? We're going to be okay. All of us.'

* * *

><p>'Welcome to my humble abode, Blaine!' Martin announced cheerily, dumping his bags in the hallway. Blaine rolled his eyes.<p>

'Humble abode, right. I've been here a hundred times, Martin.'

Martin grinned at him, 'and now it's home for the next week! A week of you and me and the sweet, sweet gym.'

Blaine groaned at the prospect – he knew that by the end of the week, he'd rather have his legs amputated than walk on them.

'Now, your video was actually pretty impressive,' Martin told him as they headed to the kitchen, 'like, that was some really good kicking. Your ground work wasn't _too_ bad, but I think that's what we should work on over the next week. Not fully, but more than we have been. Alexei is a psycho on the ground and we have to make sure you're even better.'

He opened the fridge and tossed Blaine a bottle of water, taking one for himself and sitting at the kitchen counter.

'Are you nervous about seeing a psych?' he asked after a moment of looking at Blaine closely. Blaine bit his lip.

'I don't get why I'm going.'

'Because,' Martin sighed, 'you're too _angry_, Blaine. Too angry for someone your age, and that's not healthy. You're not expressing yourself in a healthy manner.'

'I think I'll be fine once the fight is over, though,' Blaine replied, 'I'm just stressed out.'

'It's not just the fight,' Martin argued, 'it's everything. It's the move, your father… I know for a _fact _that you haven't cried about it, Blaine.'

'I don't need to _cry_.'

'Yes you do!' Martin snapped, and then sighed, running his hand over his head, 'I'm sorry. But you do. Your mother cried – hell, _I _cried. You were like a robot at his funeral and you've been one ever since and it's honestly just not healthy, Blaine. This could lead to serious problems. I mean, you're already depressed…'

'I am _not _depressed!' Blaine protested, sounding outraged, 'I am _far_ from depressed!'

'Blaine, you throw yourself into your training, you're so much more reserved than you were a year ago, and you're so _angry_. I know how you're feeling and I don't know why you don't admit it so I we can just help you. Your mother and I –'

'_Fine_,' Blaine shouted, standing up, 'I'll _tell_ you how I feel, Martin. I feel scared. I'm fucking _terrified_. Not only for the fight, but for my whole future because I can't _cope _with anything anymore. And if all my nerves are gone at this age, _what _am I going to do when I'm twenty, twenty five? I'm so _angry_ and I'm so lost and I'm so fucking confused and I don't know what to do with myself anymore. Is that what you wanted to hear? Because I feel fucking hopeless!'

He slammed his water bottle on the table and stormed out of the room, slamming the door to the kitchen behind him. Martin stared after him blankly, arms folded across his chest, worry flooding through him.

Blaine sat on the end of the best in the guest room, arms folded over his chest, his breath heavy. He hadn't spoken to anyone about how he was feeling since the events of the summer, and everything that happened after, and now that he had, it felt harder and harder to control the tears.

He didn't want to cry. He had always avoided crying as much as possible as he was growing up – it made him feel vulnerable, and vulnerability was not a part of a champion.

But now everything he had been holding back for the past half a year or so was threatening to overwhelm him, but he couldn't afford to break down. Not now.

He had to stay strong until at least after his fight. Either way, if he won or lost, it would be an incredibly emotional affair for him and tears would be acceptable.

No. Tears for win would be acceptable. Tears for a loss couldn't happen.

There was a gentle knocking on the door and he didn't reply, but the door swung open slowly anyway. Martin stood there, looking apologetic, a bag of McDonalds in his hand.

'I thought we could splurge…' he explained as Blaine's eyes widened, 'I mean, it's your first night here and – and you deserve it.'

Blaine nodded and accepted the double cheeseburger and large fries from Martin, eying them ravenously. He hadn't had take out in months, not since Martin had put him on his stupid weight maintaining diet.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Blaine enjoying his food more than anything, before Martin cleared his throat and spoke up.

'Look, Blaine, I'm sorry for pushing you,' he apologized sincerely, 'I just want you to know that I do it because I really, really care about you and if something bad happens to you, I'll never forgive myself.'

Blaine just nodded – he understood, of course. And Martin had a point. Perhaps seeing a psychologist would do him some good.

'I'm not mad at you,' he assured Martin, 'I'm just… mad at myself for not having a better hold over myself.'

'I understand it, Blaine. You're under a lot of pressure.'

They finished their meal in silence, knowing that things between them were okay. As Martin got up to leave, Blaine bit his lip.

'Um, when you said, _no Lima_…'

'You can still text Kurt,' Martin laughed, 'just don't go to bed too late.'

He gathered his rubbish and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Blaine practically dived for his phone.

_I'm suspended until next Friday for fighting Karofsky. :/ – B _x

His phone vibrated only moments later.

_What? Are you grounded or anything? Can I come see you? – K xx_

_- I'm in Westerville until the end of next week. Kind of like a punishment. Can't see people from Lima, I'm sorry. :( - B x_

_Oh… well, I'm sorry you were suspended. That was my fault. I'll see you in a week, then. – K x_

Blaine noticed the one less x and suddenly felt worried. Of course, Kurt would expect him to be there for him after his ordeal – and now that he couldn't be there, what would happen between them? Would Kurt get tired of waiting and move on? He didn't want to lose him. Suddenly, he felt annoyed at the situation he was in. He just wanted to be back in Lima – something he never thought he'd want.


	12. Chapter 12

December rolled around and Blaine was only halfway through his stay at Martin's, and Kurt still hadn't texted him or tried to contact him at all.

Not that he himself had to talk to him – he decided to let Kurt make the right moves this time.

He missed him, though, but between his intense trainings and talks with Martin, he didn't really have time to think about him. He would get home exhausted each night and just collapse into bed without much thought of anything.

But it was now Wednesday, the day of Blaine's first psychologist appointment. He took a little longer than usual to get ready, stalling his time. He was nervous. He couldn't help it.

Martin drove him there, telling him he would be in the waiting room, there when he was finished. He knew this would be a big deal for Blaine.

They checked in and after a few tense moments of waiting, Blaine was called into the psychologist's office by a middle aged man. Blaine didn't really think to ask who his new psychologist was – he'd just gone along with it. A middle aged man was honestly not his idea of what a psychologist was, but he entered the room nervously.

'Take a seat, Blaine,' the man told him, smiling tensely. Blaine sat down hesitantly – he wasn't getting a good vibe from this man at all.

'Now, my name is Tyson,' the man told him, 'why don't you tell me a little about yourself?'

Blaine hesitated.

'Um, I'm Blaine…' he started slowly, 'I'm seventeen years old, I go to school in Lima. I'm a kickboxer and my title fight is in March… um… I sing…'

Tyson merely watched him intently, nodding every so often. He flipped a pad of paper open and scribbled something down, which simply made Blaine feel more nervous. He looked at his shoes awkwardly.

'So, Blaine, why are you here?' Tyson asked, looking up from his pad of paper. Blaine cleared his throat.

'I was suspended from school because I got into a fight with another student,' he replied uncomfortably, 'he um, assaulted the guy I have a thing for and he was really upset and I lost control of my temper. So I think I'm here because I have too much anger in me.'

But the psychologist was now staring at him with a look of slight revulsion, 'the boy you have a thing for?'

'Um, yeah…'

'Well, Blaine,' Tyson started, now scribbling furiously on his paper, 'did you perhaps think that maybe your problems stemmed from the fact that you like boys?'

'_What_?'

'Well,' Tyson set the paper down and stared at him over his desk, 'you attacked someone because they hurt the boy you liked. Surely if you didn't like boys, the boy being hurt wouldn't bother you and you wouldn't have been suspended in the first place.'

'Um, _excuse me_; I thought you weren't meant to judge me.' Blaine shot, crossing his arms over his chest.

'Tell me about your father, Blaine.'

'My dad? He was a fighter too, but he died in the summer in a car accident…'

'Were you and your father close?'

'He was my best friend.'

'So you're sure he didn't die with any resentment between you two? I mean, if your father had anything against your sexuality, it must be part of the reason you're so angry with his death.'

Blaine's mouth dropped open, '_excuse me_? My father had nothing against my sexuality – he supported me! I'm angry because he didn't _deserve _to die – if anyone should have died in that crash, it should have been me.'

'So you believe that homosexuals don't deserve to live?'

'I – what? I'm not saying that at all!' Blaine exclaimed, 'just… _what_?'

'Does this boy reciprocate your feelings?'

Blaine was stunned at the abrupt subject change, 'he does. He just doesn't want a relationship right now.'

'Stringing you along, is he?'

'No, he's not. He was honest with me about his feelings. After he was attacked, he didn't feel ready for a relationship.'

'Did you think that maybe he made the whole thing up to get you off his back? I mean, gay people can be very… _upfront_… about their sexuality, and you may have led him to feel uncomfortable and pressured.' Tyson asked evenly, scribbling something down on his paper. Blaine's eyes flashed.

'_How_ did you get a job?' he asked incredulously, before simply standing up and storming out of the room, slamming it shut behind him.

'We're going home,' he told a stunned Martin, not breaking his stride as he left the reception. Martin looked around, confused, before quickly following Blaine, who had begun to run towards the car.

'Blaine!' Martin called, breaking into a run himself, 'Blaine – wait! What happened?'

He caught up and grabbed Blaine by the arm, pulling him to a stop and turning him so that they were facing each other.

And for the first time in years, Blaine's eyes were almost overflowing with tears, which he was clearly trying to blink away.

'What happened, Blaine?' he asked gently, keeping his arm on Blaine's so that he wouldn't leave. Blaine took a shaky breath.

'He – he was _horrible_,' Blaine breathed, voice trembling, 'he told me that I was angry because dad had something against me being homophobic, that it was my fault I was suspended because I was _gay_, insinuated that I thought homosexuals deserved to die, and that Kurt told me he didn't want a relationship because he was trying to get me 'off his back' because 'gay people can be very _upfront_ about their sexuality' and I made him feel pressured. _What _is wrong with people? Why can't I just get a break for once?'

His shoulders were beginning to shake and Martin knew he was trying his hardest not to burst into tears. He felt his heart break for the boy, but he also felt pure anger at the psychologist. His job was to help people – not make them feel worse, or drive them to the point of tears. Perhaps seeing a psychologist wasn't the best plan; a lot of the adults in Ohio didn't support gay rights and he couldn't have them tear down Blaine's self esteem like that.

Martin wrapped his arms around Blaine, 'come on, Blaine. It's okay to cry.'

Another shaky breath was drawn in and Blaine pushed him off gently, 'no. No, I'm _not _going to cry.'

He wiped his eyes and closed them, taking a moment to compose himself. When his eyes reopened, he looked like the same old Blaine he'd always been – cool, calm, collected.

'Alright. I'm fine – he's a jerk, and I'm fine.'

Martin sighed, 'let's just – let's just go to the gym.'

* * *

><p>Martin tapped against the ground frantically as the boy pulled off an absolutely spectacular arm bar. He pushed Blaine off him gently, and rubbed at his shoulder.<p>

'That was brilliant, Blaine!' he praised, though he was wincing, 'you didn't have to be so rough though; we're only training.'

'Better be rough now so I know what it's like when I go up against Alexei,' Blaine told him through gasps for air, 'I heard he won _another _exhibition match by submission. He _cannot _get me to the ground.'

Martin nodded and took a swig from a nearby bottle of water.

'You're getting better – but I don't think you'll be as good as him by March. No offense.'

'I know, Martin,' Blaine replied, not offended in the slightest, 'I'm a kickboxer. He does jiu-jitsu. You're good at what you train for, right?'

'Right.'

'Ready to go again?' Blaine asked, getting to his feet and jumping around playfully. He seemed completely fine – you'd never been able to tell that a mere hour ago he was almost in tears.

'Alright, Blaine, let's go again.'

He made short work of getting Blaine to the ground, but every time Blaine either got out of his hold or forced him into submission. He was becoming increasingly frustrated – but he was proud, too. Blaine had really focused on his training the past few days and he was working hard. Martin knew that he was trying not to let anything distract him – he hadn't seen him texting anyone since he'd come here; he hadn't even gone on the computer. It was like a getaway for him; a week of detoxing and finding himself again. He was more brutal with his hits, smarter with his attacks and sharper in his movements, and Martin was beginning to have no doubts that he would win his title fight.

And though it seemed unlikely in such a few short days, Blaine seemed _older_. His eyes burned with a new intensity and he carried himself like a man, like someone who was fighting a battle and _winning_. He hadn't shaved since he'd arrived, so he was beginning to develop some serious stubble, and after all the training he'd done he was fitter and leaner. He reminded Martin terribly of a darker haired version of his father and he felt a pang of nostalgia.

Jon and Martin had grown up together – they'd fought together, laughed together and even lived together for a brief time in their senior year after Martin was kicked out of his own home. They were best friends and losing him had felt like he had lost a part of himself. Looking at Blaine everyday made him feel a strange mixture of emotions – he missed Jon more than ever, but he was so _proud _of the man Blaine was becoming; and he knew Jon would be proud, too. It kept him going, knowing that Blaine was continuing his father's legacy and becoming the spitting image of him, both in personality and in appearance.

'What's wrong, Martin?'

It was then Martin realised that his eyes were a little wet and he had probably been staring at Blaine, so he simply smiled at him.

'Your father would have been _so_ proud of you, Blaine,' he told him softly, and Blaine's expression softened, '_I'm _so proud of you.'

'Thank you, Martin,' Blaine replied, voice equally soft, 'I wouldn't be anywhere without you.'

It was a rare affectionate moment between them; usually they were either fighting or teasing each other, moments like these where they showed how much they truly appreciated each other didn't come often, but when they did, they were enough to make Martin's heart swell.

Suddenly, Blaine's phone went off from outside the cage and he went out to get it, a huge smile spreading across his face as he read the message.

_Thinking of you. I hope you're having a good time. xx – K_

Blaine fired off a quick reply before going back into the cage and spinning around in a circle giddily.

_Thinking of you, too (: I'm doing well here, I'm getting focused again. I hope you're feeling okay. – B xx_

'You really like him, don't you?' Martin commented, smiling as Blaine grinned to himself. He nodded.

'It was easy to figure out once we'd, you know, kissed.' he replied, and Martin gasped.

'_Girlfriend!_' he mock-squealed, sitting on the floor, 'you didn't tell me you two kissed! How did that happen?'

'Um, well we went to his house for dinner on Friday – mum and I – and we were in his room, on his bed and we had this little heart to heart and I just… kissed him. Only for a second though, Finn burst through the door and ruined everything. But it still counts as a kiss, right?'

'That it does!' Martin confirmed, feeling happy for Blaine, 'what happened after that?'

'Well, we ate dinner and then I had to go after a while, but Kurt asked his parents if I could stay the night, so I did. We kind of talked about it, and we decided we would take things slow. And then we fell asleep together.'

His grin was so wide that Martin smiled just looking at him – he didn't remember Blaine looking so happy in such a long time.

'Do you miss him?' he asked.

'To be honest, I've been focused on training,' Blaine shrugged, 'I haven't really had time to. But when he texted me, I felt it. I felt how much I missed him.'

'Someone's got it bad,' Martin remarked, 'alright, we're done for today. I know you won't be able to focus on training now.'

'Can't I go see him?' Blaine asked desperately, 'it's been forever. And I'll be back before late! Please?'

Martin hesitated. He didn't want Blaine to be sad if he said no, but then again, he didn't want Clarissa to murder him if she found out. But Blaine deserved a break – he'd never liked punishing Blaine, anyway. It felt like he was punishing himself.

'Fine,' he relented, 'but you _have_ to be home tonight and your mother is not allowed to find out. Not ever.'

Blaine threw his arms around Martin and hugged him for a long second before leaving the cage at breakneck speed, grabbing his phone and heading for the showers. It was just past two o'clock – if he showered quickly, he could be in Lima a little after Kurt finished school for the day.

* * *

><p>Blaine was at Kurt's house by 3.45, and when he knocked on the door, it was flung open almost immediately and he was pulled into Kurt's arms.<p>

'I didn't even think I could miss someone this much, and it's only been five days!' Kurt squealed, hugging him tightly. Blaine's arms found their way around his waist and he hugged him just as tight.

'I missed you too!' he replied honestly, his heart beating a little faster at the sight of Kurt, 'it feels like forever.'

'Mum and dad aren't home – I hope that's not a problem?' Kurt asked, biting his lip as he released Blaine, 'and uh, Finn's at football practice.'

'Oh. That's um, fine.'

'Okay,' Kurt smiled at him – Blaine felt a pang as he realised how much he'd missed that smile, 'wanna go down to my room?'

Blaine nodded and Kurt led him downstairs, and to his surprise, as soon as he'd pulled him through the doorway, it was slammed shut and he was in Kurt's arms again.

'Did you get in trouble for being suspended?' Kurt asked, running his hand over Blaine's curls. Blaine shrugged.

'Not really. Apart from moving to Westerville for the week and seeing a psychologist, I was fine.'

'A _psychologist_?' Kurt repeated incredulously, 'what for?'

'For my temper,' Blaine replied, 'and I don't know why I went; he basically blamed me for everything and insulted my sexuality.'

'What! Blaine,' Kurt pulled away and looked at him straight in the eyes, 'nothing that happened was your fault. You stood up for me and that was honestly the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me.'

At that, Blaine leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek before pulling him into a firm embrace.

'God, I missed you so much,' Kurt breathed, placing a kiss on Blaine's collarbone, 'I don't know what I was thinking. Who – who cares about Karofsky; you'll fix me, Blaine.'

Blaine bit his lip and lifted Kurt's chin and kissed him properly, trying to ignore the weightless feeling in his body as their lips touched. He could feel Kurt kissing back eagerly, he could feel his body screaming as though on fire, he could feel his heart fill to bursting point; he could just _feel_.

He traced Kurt's bottom lip with his tongue and the lips parted without hesitation, and Blaine felt Kurt pull him closer than he thought possible, their tongues swirling around the other, exploring, mapping, claiming.

Blaine heard Kurt moan breathlessly and it sent a wave of heat through him and he slowly pushed him back onto the bed, climbing on top of him gently, their legs becoming hopelessly tangled as their kiss heated up.

Blaine had never kissed a boy _quite_ like this before, and before long, his need for oxygen prevailed, so he broke the kiss, breathing heavily. Kurt whimpered at the loss of Blaine's lips, so Blaine trailed a line of kisses along Kurt's jaw and down his neck to compensate, earning him another one of those gorgeous moans. Kurt's cheeks were flushed and his pupils were lust-blown. He sat up and stared at Blaine almost hungrily.

'We – what are we?' he asked, still breathing heavily.

'Whatever you want us to be,' Blaine replied instantly, his brain feeling a little fuzzy. Kurt grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him back on top of him, kissing him deeply.

'Be my everything, Blaine,' he breathed once they'd parted. Blaine could only manage a nod in reply before he reattached their lips, kissing Kurt fiercely.

Kurt ran his hands over Blaine's back, his hands leaving burning trails in their wake. Blaine could feel himself beginning to lose his grip on his rationality, all he could think and taste was Kurt, and he wanted _more_.

But he knew he couldn't – he knew he couldn't push Kurt into anything and that when he was ready for more, they would do more. At Kurt's pace. But that didn't stop him from feeling horribly, unfairly aroused; which meant they had to stop – he wasn't really ready to go any further, either.

'Okay, Kurt,' he pushed himself off of Kurt and rolled over, lying next to him, 'we need to cool off.'

'But why?' Kurt whined, 'I like kissing you.'

Blaine sighed, 'kissing like _that_ leads to stuff we're not ready for yet.'

Kurt grumbled a little, but turned his head and pressed his lips to Blaine's cheek.

'But that's okay?' he asked. When Blaine nodded, he kissed him softly on the lips.

'And that.'

'That's fine, too.'

A kiss to the jaw.

'What about that?'

Blaine felt his mind go hazy again, 'um, fine. Yeah.'

A kiss just under the jaw.

'And that?'

'Um… fine. T-that's fine.'

Kurt then rolled on top of Blaine and licked a stripe from the top of his neck to his collarbone, sucking the skin between his teeth. Blaine gasped softly.

'Is that okay?' Kurt asked innocently, biting his lip softly. Blaine groaned and pushed him off gently.

'I need to use the bathroom…' he muttered, hopping off the bed and crossing the room quickly.

He locked the door behind him and leaned against it, eyes shut, breathing heavily. He didn't expect _that _from Kurt. He'd expected them to talk when he came over, perhaps watch a movie. But not that. He ran a hand through his hair – making it stick up even more, if possible – and he crossed the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror.

His pupils were blown and his lips were swollen. His cheeks were tinged pink and his hair stuck up in a million possible directions. There was a darkening bruise on his collarbone and his clothes were beyond wrinkled.

But even though his appearance was more than disheveled, he couldn't help but grin. He tried to straighten himself out, and when he was satisfied, he headed back into the room, where Kurt was still sat on the bed, looking as though someone had put him through a washing machine, smiling brilliantly at him.

'That was amazing,' he told Blaine, patting the spot next to him, and Blaine sat, 'like… wow. Seriously.'

'I agree,' Blaine nodded, unable to contain his smile.

'As much as I would like to do that again, I would much rather cuddle with my beautiful boyfriend,' Kurt told him, holding his arms out. Blaine pulled him into a hug and they fell backwards onto the bed, merely lying in each other's arms, discussing their week without each other.

* * *

><p>When Blaine left, he knew it wasn't forever – of course it wasn't – but he felt like he was leaving a piece of himself behind in Lima.<p>

Things had become heated several more times before he left, and now Blaine was doing nothing to hide his rumpled appearance. He knew he would get grilled by Martin later, but he didn't care. He deserved to have fun for once.

He sung the whole way back to Westerville, feeling complete for the first time in months. When he was around Kurt, all the bad things just didn't seem to matter. He couldn't believe they'd only known each other for a month – it felt like a lifetime.

'Whoa, what were you doing?' Martin asked incredulously as Blaine walked through the front door. Blaine simply grinned at him and shook his head, heading for his room. Sure enough, Martin followed him, an amused, yet worried and expression on his face.

'So, how's Kurt?' he asked casually, leaning against the doorway as Blaine collapsed onto the bed.

'He's good,' Blaine replied, voice muffled by the pillow. Martin bit his lip.

'You seem tired,' he commented, 'it's not even that late.'

'Yeah, I'm a little tired.'

'Bet Kurt gave you quite the workout, eh?'

At this, Blaine shot up, cheeks flaming.

'What! We didn't do anything like – like _that_.' he exclaimed, sounding horribly embarrassed.

'Of course not,' Martin agreed sarcastically, 'which would explain why you looked like you just hopped off a cock.'

Blaine's blush darkened at that comment, and he opened his mouth to protest but Martin's phone buzzed from his pocket. He checked it, shooting Blaine another accusing glance, but smiled as he read the message.

Blaine was confused.

'Who's that?' he asked curiously, watching the small smile playing at the corner of Martin's lips suspiciously. Martin shrugged and slid the phone back into his pocket nonchalantly.

'It's just your mother,' he replied easily, 'she's checking up on you.'

Blaine nodded, unconvinced. If she was just checking up on him, why was Martin smiling like that?

'So what happened with you and Kurt?' he asked finally. Blaine shrugged.

'We kissed,' he replied simply, 'a… fair bit. But that's it. We just kissed.'

Martin stared at him for a long moment, 'alright. I trust you. Did you have a good time?'

'The _best_.' Blaine replied, breaking into a huge grin. Martin smiled at that.

'I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. You – you deserve it.' he nodded, and then stepped back, 'I'm going to be up in the study if you need anything.'

'Alright. Thanks, Martin.'

'No problem.'

The door was shut and Blaine was alone. He fell back against his bed, still grinning at his good luck.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Bit of a filler because it's late and I haven't posted today so here you go. (:**

* * *

><p>Having a boyfriend was a completely strange concept to Blaine.<p>

Waking up to a text good morning each day, having someone to hold while he watched movies, being able to kiss someone whenever he wanted; honestly, it was something he didn't think he would have until well after high school. Kurt coming into his life was certainly a blessing, and by the time Monday rolled around and he was allowed back at school, he had grown a little used to having Kurt there in a way he'd never had someone before.

The New Directions were, of course, absolutely thrilled for them. Apart from some highly suggestive commented from Puck and Santana, the rest of them had babbled endlessly about how cute they were as a couple, how well they suited one another. It made Blaine proud to have them approve of him for Kurt; he knew that they would only want the best for him and the fact that he was considered good enough – it made him happy.

Not that everyone was accepting of their relationship. Most of the people shrugged it off, not really caring if they held hands in between classes or kissed in the morning when they saw each other.

The jocks, however, did.

Which is why Blaine found himself having his patience tested more and more each day; if he would hold Kurt's hand, someone would shove through them and call them some sort of nasty name, or if they kissed, one of them would be pushed from behind so that they would bump into each other painfully. Kurt simply let it roll off his back, but Blaine couldn't bring himself to accept that kind of behavior from anyone. It just made him angrier and angrier.

But whenever he felt as though he was about to snap, he would feel Kurt squeeze his hand reassuringly and the anger would simmer down. Why should he have to be angry at them? They would never take away what he and Kurt had.

Kurt was helping immensely with his anger issues. A few soothing words and he would be fine, perfectly able to control his temper. When he told Martin this, the man was over the moon.

'Make sure you don't stop seeing him before your fight,' he winked, 'he's like your good luck charm.'

And he was – with his improved moods, Blaine was fighting harder and better than he ever had. His trainings went for longer and Martin could tell that he was really pushing himself.

But with the fight fast approaching, Blaine found himself filled with doubts, which sparked a series of minor mental breakdowns.

Every time Blaine had something big coming up, he would periodically suffer from some sort of panic attack. They would be spaced throughout the first few months, and then as the event approached, he could have two or three a day. It was something that had troubled him even as a kid; his anxiety was terrible. The first of these panic attacks happened in Kurt's bedroom a week before Christmas.

'Kurt,' Blaine began slowly, sitting cross-legged on Kurt's bed, 'my fight is in March.'

'Indeed it is, Blaine,' Kurt grinned, 'I'm glad you've figured it out.'

'No, Kurt. My fight is in _March._'

Kurt frowned, 'Blaine, I know it's in March.'

'But now it's December. It's halfway through December and my fight is in March. That's, what – two and a half months?'

'Yeah, it's coming up pretty quickly.'

'I'm going to lose,' Blaine told him, sounding horrified, 'I'm going to get the shit kicked out of me.'

'What?' Kurt's frown deepened, 'you are not going to lose, Blaine.'

'Oh my god, I'm going to embarrass myself – there's no point to this –'

'Blaine.'

'– he's a much better fighter and he's a lot stronger and oh my god, who am I kidding? I can't beat him – he's the champion! I can't do this. I can't do it.'

'_Blaine_.'

'– I'm going to let everyone down! Martin is going to hate me, oh my god, and _mum_. I can't disappoint her like this, I can't fight. I can't do this, oh my goodness.'

His breathing was fast and his hands were clasped over his chest. Kurt looked at him, panic-stricken, and as Blaine's breath caught in his throat and he began to cough violently.

'Carole!' he shouted, running out of his room, '_Carole_!'

* * *

><p>They'd successfully calmed Blaine down, who now sat on the floor, looking incredibly sheepish. Kurt sat in his desk chair, surveying him over clasped hands.<p>

'Does this happen often?' he asked finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Blaine shrugged.

'Before a big fight,' he replied meekly, 'they get more frequent as the fight gets closer. It's been happening for as long as I can remember.'

'Blaine, that's seriously not healthy.'

'I know,' Blaine mumbled, staring at his hands, 'I just – I can't help it. Even I get insecure sometimes.'

Kurt's expression softened and he was next to Blaine in an instant, pulling him into his arms and kissing him on the temple.

'It's okay, baby,' he murmured, running his hand over Blaine's back, 'I'm here for that. I think you're amazing and I _know _you're going to win this fight. So don't worry about it – just train and focus; you can do it.'

Blaine pulled him in for a lingering kiss then, grateful that he had someone he could finally confide in. Martin was okay for situations like this, but he would usually end up saying something stupid by accident which would freak Blaine out even more. Having Kurt was comforting; just someone he could talk to and could erase all his fears – that's what he had needed for so long.

* * *

><p>When Christmas came, it was a bittersweet occasion; Blaine spent the day with Martin and his mother – whom were acting <em>very <em>suspiciously; dancing around the kitchen together as they cooked, sharing secret smiles when they thought Blaine wasn't looking.

But he was looking and he was noticing their behavior and he honestly didn't like it at all. His father had died half a year ago – how could his mother have already moved on? It wasn't fair.

Especially with Martin – his father's best friend! While they spent the day cheerily, Blaine felt sullen and put out. He wanted his father alive for Christmas – he never imagined the holiday would be this hard without him.

Worst of all, Christmas was a family occasion so he couldn't go and see Kurt that day – his mother wouldn't let him out of the house, insisting that they 'barely spent time together anymore and needed to now more than ever'.

Well it was hard to interact with his mother when all she was doing was flirting with Martin.

So while they were in the kitchen, Blaine found himself sitting outside in the snow with Pierre, sulking. He was lonely and he missed his father and he just wanted his mum and Martin to stop flirting so he could spend a nice afternoon with them.

Suddenly, his mother appeared at the door.

'You have a visitor,' she smiled, before bustling back into the kitchen to join Martin. A second later, Kurt appeared in the doorway and Blaine was on his feet in an instant.

'Merry Christmas, baby!' Kurt greeted him, pulling him in for a soft kiss, 'I couldn't go the day without seeing you so I convinced dad and Carole to let me come over!'

'Merry Christmas, Kurt,' Blaine replied breathlessly, smiling properly for the first time that day, 'how has your day been?'

'Good, surprisingly.' Kurt told him, smiling, 'usually Christmas is so lonely without mum but we have Carole and Finn now and – oh. _Oh,_ how are you holding up, Blaine? This must be so hard for you.'

Blaine bit his lip and shrugged; Kurt was right – this _was _hard for him.

'It would have been a lot easier if Martin and mum would stop flirting with each other for five minutes,' he muttered, surprised at the mutinous tone to his voice.

'Flirting?' Kurt repeated softly, 'are you sure?'

'They've been dancing and smiling at each other and being all touchy-feely.' Blaine told him, sighing and running a hand through his hair, 'honestly, it's just making me miss dad more. Martin was his best friend and mum was his _wife _and it's only been h-half a year and I just – I don't want _them _to happen.'

'Maybe it's their way of dealing with the pain of losing him?' Kurt suggested gently, taking Blaine's hand in his, 'everyone copes differently – this must be just as hard for them as it is for you, love.'

Blaine sighed again.

'I just wish he was here, you know? He loved Christmas.'

Kurt frowned briefly, but then he smiled and he pulled Blaine onto the snow-covered lawn.

'Well, I'm here,' he told him, wrapping his arms around his neck, 'and I'll be here as long as you want me.'

Blaine leaned his forehead against Kurt's and smiled softly.

'I'm so glad I've got you,' his arms wrapped around Kurt's waist, 'at least today seems a little more bearable now.'

Kurt grinned at him and then began to sing softly under his breath.

_I don't want a lot for Christmas  
>There's just one thing I need<br>I don't care about the presents  
>Underneath the Christmas tree<br>_

At this, Blaine began to laugh softly, and they began to sway along slowly together. Blaine joined in the next verse, their eyes locked, grins plastered on their faces as their dancing picked up.

_I just want you for my own  
>More than you could ever know<br>Make my wish come true  
>All I want for Christmas is...<br>You_

Blaine spun Kurt around and they continued the song, not aware that Clarissa and Martin were now standing in the doorway, watching them with matching smiles on their faces. Kurt and Blaine didn't notice, they just kept dancing and twirling through the snow, laughing and singing, their eyes glued to each other. Martin reached down and took Clarissa's hand in his and squeezed gently.

'I don't see how anyone could think that's wrong,' Clarissa commented, 'there's nothing wrong with that. That is beautiful. I'm so proud of how he's turning out.'

'Of course he's going to turn out well,' Martin murmured, 'you're raising him.'

Clarissa looked up at him and smiled softly.

'I can't take all the credit, you're helping so much.' she reminded him, tightening her grip on his hand. He glanced over to see if Kurt and Blaine were watching – they were too busy lost in each other's eyes to notice – and he kissed Clarissa's cheek gently.

'Merry Christmas, Clarissa.'

'Merry Christmas.'


	14. Chapter 14

**To make up for my lack of chapter today, here's an extra long one for you guys! :)**

* * *

><p>'I was wondering; do you want to come to a New Year's party with me?' Blaine asked Kurt, lying across his bed with his head dangling off the side. Kurt was seated as his desk, filing his nails. He looked up interest.<p>

'Sit up, Blaine, your face is all red,' he ordered, raising an eyebrow. When Blaine was upright, Kurt smiled at him, 'what kind of New Year's party are we talking about?'

'Well, it's one I have to go to – Warbler tradition,' Blaine explained, 'it's held at Nick's house every year and it's just a little bit crazy. I'd love it if you came with me; I don't think I'd want to ring in the New Year without you. Oh, and the New Directions are all invited too, if they don't already have other plans.'

'I don't think they have other plans…' Kurt replied slowly, frowning softly, 'Finn will go if I go, and that means Rachel, too – so will Tina and Mercedes; and I don't think Santana and Puck would ever turn a party down. And of course, if Santana goes, Brittany will go to, and if Tina comes, Mike will too, which means Sam and Artie will probably come, and if Sam comes, so will Quinn.'

'So everyone would basically be up for it?'

'I'll text them all,' Kurt smiled, already reaching for his phone, 'wait – details? If it's out in Westerville, I think we're all going to need a place to stay for the night.'

'Nick's house is possibly the largest house I've ever seen in my life. There's plenty of room for them all to stay,' Blaine assured him, already having discussed this with Nick, 'and we wouldn't want them to be driving home – there will be a _lot _of alcohol.'

'Oh, the New Directions will love that,' Kurt laughed, typing away on his phone, 'I don't think I'll drink too much if I go, though.'

'I don't usually drink at all,' Blaine told him, 'I might have one or two this year but I don't know. I have training the next day – I know, Martin is so much fun – so I don't want to be hung over.'

Kurt's phone lit up then, signaling a new text. Kurt quickly read over the text and grinned.

'Santana and Puck are in,' he told Blaine, 'so that means Brittany is in, too.'

'Great.' Blaine smiled, 'when we have a full list we can issue the details?'

'Yeah, that sounds good.'

His phone lit up again; two new texts.

'Alright, Mercedes is in and so is Artie.'

One by one, texts started flooding in, all saying that they would love to come and asking for the address. Blaine gave Kurt Nick's address and he sent a group text back to them all, informing them where it was and what time they should get there.

'Oh, and mention that they don't need booze, blankets or pillows – everything will be provided.'

They talked about the party a little more, Blaine retelling some interesting and funny stories from the parties from the years before – namely about how all the Warblers would get absolutely sloshed and make complete fools of themselves; events Blaine still had video evidence of and held against them whenever he needed a favor from them.

'What do I wear?' Kurt asked, 'what kind of party is it?'

'Don't wear something too nice,' Blaine advised seriously, 'you'll either end up spilling something on yourself, throwing up on yourself – or someone will throw up on you.'

Kurt wrinkled his nose at that – he didn't find the idea of someone throwing up on him at all appealing.

'Just stay clear of the boys when they're drunk and you should be fine,' Blaine assured him, 'or you can convince them to do stupid things, like I do. I still have videos of Wes and David running down the street in Nick's sister's underwear.'

Kurt laughed at that, not knowing who Wes and David were, but from the mental image that popped into his head, he could tell it was very amusing. His laughter only intensified after Blaine had thrust his phone in his direction, a picture of an Asian boy and a dark-skinned boy in lacy underwear, their feet squashed into high heels, smiling drunkenly at the camera.

'That's amazing,' Kurt grinned, handing the phone back, 'this party sounds very, very promising.'

* * *

><p>'Welcome to Nick Duval's New Year's Eve Party of Amazing Extravaganza!'<p>

Kurt raised his eyebrows in amusement at the handsome dark haired boy who had just flung the door open. Blaine laughed and pulled the boy into a hug.

'It's nice to see you, Nick,' he told him, patting him on the back. Nick grinned.

'Always a pleasure to see you, Blaine,' he replied smoothly, before turning to Kurt, 'and this must be the 'gorgeous' boyfriend you haven't stopped talking about. You're right about the gorgeous, though. Thanks for coming! I'm Nick.'

He extended his hand and Kurt took it, blushing lightly at the boy's charm.

'Kurt,' he replied, dropping his hand after a moment. Nick winked at him and stepped back.

'Do come in,' he urged, 'it's cold outside and the rest of the boys are waiting downstairs. Dad left a while ago so we have the house to ourselves for the night.'

Nick's father had divorced his mother while Nick was still a child, and in order to make sure he remained Nick's favorite parent, he spoiled the boy as much as he could. Not that Nick let it go to his head – he just enjoyed the attention he received from his father. His father was the CEO of a very large international company and along with the copious amounts of old money that had been passed down his father's side, they were very well off. His mother didn't even bother trying to talk to him – he stayed with her about once a year and during that time she would just drink and party and leave him at home with his sister.

They were led downstairs – well, Kurt was led; Blaine knew exactly where he was going – where a group of boys sat. The room was enormous, the furniture expensive and sleek, with a long table filled with food and possibly every type of alcohol in existence. The room was filled with shouts and laughter – some of the boys were playing Call of Duty on a screen that wouldn't look out of place in a cinema. Kurt looked around, seriously impressed, but Blaine looked passive – he'd seen it all before.

'Blaine and Kurt are here,' Nick announced casually as they entered the room. At that, all the talking stopped at once and suddenly a mass of boys were surrounding them.

'Blaine! How have you been, man?'

'We've missed you! It's been too long!'

'How's the new school? You still training?'

Suddenly Kurt was approached by an Asian boy – he recognised him from the underwear photo. He beamed at Kurt.

'Oh, you must be his boyfriend! Hello, I'm Wes!'

'I'm Kurt,' Kurt replied, smiling at him.

'It's so nice to meet you, Blaine talks about you _all _the time…'

The boys each introduced themselves to Kurt – they all seemed like perfect gentlemen. A loud chime was heard and Nick looked up at the ceiling.

'More guests!' he clapped his hands together and turned to Kurt, 'they'll be your friends – would you like to answer the door with me to avoid awkwardness?'

Kurt nodded and Nick took him back up to the front door. Once opened, they saw Mercedes and Tina standing on the doorstep, all dolled up in pretty dresses and makeup.

'Oh, good evening ladies,' Nick smiled charmingly at them, 'can I take your coats? I'm so glad you could make it.'

Tina and Mercedes exchanged excited glances and Kurt couldn't really blame them – someone as attractive and dapper as Nick would be enough to make anyone swoon.

He did take their coats just as Santana, Puck, Brittany and Artie reached the door. Santana raked her eyes over his body and grinned at him suggestively, but he merely offered to take her coat, too, before taking them all back downstairs.

It was then that Kurt saw Nick walk over to a tall boy with bright blonde hair and kiss him softly that he remembered Blaine mentioning something about Nick and Jeff and an anniversary of theirs a few weeks ago.

The chime sounded again and Kurt was dragged upstairs once more, now opening the door to Finn, Rachel, Mike, Sam and Quinn.

'We thought we'd carpool,' Finn explained, shrugging off his jacket, which Nick took from him immediately, 'cool house, dude.'

The New Directions went downstairs and, like Kurt, looked around, looking very impressed. Nick grinned at them all.

'Well, now that we're all here, I guess the party can start,' he told them, a glint in his eye, 'drinks are off to the side – no part of the house is off limits unless the doors are locked; that would mean they're my father's rooms and we're not allowed to go inside them because some of the documents in there are very important. When you feel like sleeping, you can sleep in whatever bed you find. Remember, nothing is off limits here.'

He winked at them and went to join his friends, who were beginning to pour out shots. The New Directions shared an impressed, excited glance and they each shot off in different directions, some to explore the house, others to join the Warblers in their drinking.

* * *

><p>It was barely twelve o'clock and the inhabitants of Nick Duval's house were completely, utterly smashed.<p>

The amount of liquor that was available proved too much for anybody to resist, and so they'd throw themselves into drinking as much as they could. Santana and Brittany were in a corner, making out, much to the delight of the room's straight males, Mercedes and Tina were laughing hysterically with David and Wes, and Puck was grinding against anything with a pulse to the loud music that blared from the speakers. Kurt took a sip from his own drink – he was carefully moderating how much alcohol he consumed that night – and surveyed the scene with interest.

The party was insane.

There was a crash from upstairs and he climbed the stairs quickly – if not just a little bit unsteadily – and saw Nick, a boy named Thad, Jeff and Blaine laughing uncontrollably, tangled in a heaped pile on the floor at the foot of another staircase.

'Dude, we _have _to do that again,' Nick announced, his words slurred slightly. He grabbed Jeff by the shirt without warning and pulled him forward for a sloppy kiss. He heard Blaine groan in annoyance and he shoved them off of him, getting to his feet, swaying on the spot.

'I'm – I'm going to – to find Kurt,' he informed them in a dignified voice, and Kurt could hear just how drunk he was. He turned and swayed a little more, his eyes falling on Kurt, 'Kurt!'

He crossed the room quickly for someone who was undoubtedly drunk and wrapped his arms around Kurt tightly, almost knocking Kurt over and spilling his drink.

'I missed you!' Blaine informed him, pulling back and grinning happily, 'you – you look so _pretty _tonight, Kurt!'

Kurt could feel himself begin to blush, but he laughed.

'You're very handsome yourself, Blaine,' he replied, without a hint of a slur. Blaine's smile widened and he kissed Kurt.

'Kissing you makes me happy,' he informed him in a hushed whisper, 'but it's a secret, so _shh_.'

Kurt laughed and untangled himself from Blaine's arms and took a sip of his drink.

'How much have you had to drink, Blaine?' he asked, raising his eyebrow in amusement. Blaine grinned again.

'_This_ _much_!' he announced, holding up eight fingers. Kurt looked confused.

'That makes _no_ sense,' he told Blaine, but the smile didn't vanish from Blaine's face.

'No, what – what _doesn't_ make sense,' Blaine told him, 'is the fact that you're still s-_sober_. Come on, more drinks!'

He took Kurt's hand and pressed a kiss to his cheek before leading him back downstairs, relying on Kurt heavily to support him. They reached the basement where they were met with the sight of Sam, shirt off, dancing in the middle of the room with Brittany. Though their movements were a little sloppy from the alcohol, they still moved expertly. Kurt and Blaine paused for a moment to admire their dancing, before heading over to the table with drinks.

Wes and Cameron were now just sitting on the floor, drinking from a bottle, passing it back and forth between them. As Kurt and Blaine reached them, they grinned up at them drunkenly and held the bottle out.

'Join the circle of love!' Wes urged, patting the spot next to them, 'there's so much booze and love!'

Blaine nodded and instantly plopped down next to Cameron, accepting the offered bottle and taking a long swig of it before holding it out to Kurt, who hesitated. It was straight vodka.

But Blaine was staring up at him hopefully and who was he to deny a face like that? He sat down next to Wes and took the bottle, taking a long drink.

The alcohol burned his throat but he felt it go to his almost immediately, and suddenly it was a lot easier to smile and laugh and enjoy himself. After a while, he got to his feet shakily, grabbed another bottle of vodka from the table, and made his way slowly upstairs.

'Kurt! Where are you going?'

He turned, his head fuzzy, to see Nick grinning up at him.

'Come down, we're going to play Truth or Dare.'

Kurt almost tripped on his way back downstairs, and when he finally made it back to the room, Ethan had his phone out and was entering their names in a Truth or Dare app.

'Alright, alright!' he shouted, and the people in the room fell silent, though some still giggled to themselves. He shook his phone, 'Finn!'

Finn looked up from where he'd been kissing Rachel, 'what, dude?'

'Truth or Dare?'

The trademark half grin appeared, 'dare!'

'… Do you want it dirty or clean?'

'Dirty, Hudson!' Santana shouted from a beanbag. She grinned at him, 'I wanna see someone get it on tonight!'

Finn nodded reluctantly and Ethan grinned, pressing a few buttons on the screen. Then he burst out laughing.

'Okay, okay; _draw a line of whipped cream of someone of the same sex and lick it off – belly to throat!'_'

There was a collective cheer from the people in the room and Finn blushed crimson, not one to back out of a dare. Someone threw him a cupcake and he looked at it, confused.

'Use the icing,' David suggested.

Finn took a deep breath, 'okay. Okay, who's going to do this with me?'

'I'll do it!' Puck announced, pulling his shirt off – the girls in the room cheered. Finn looked at him wearily, but made his way over to him nevertheless, smearing the cupcake over his chest and stomach. He hesitated for a moment, before dropping to his knees and licking the whole thing off. One again, the room exploded in cheers and cat calls.

Both Puck and Finn were blushing violently, and Finn made his way back to Rachel, pulling her into his arms protectively. One by one, the people in the room were subjected to horribly embarrassing truths – 'I _swear_ David, I only liked you for like a week! Our bromance as Wevid can get confusing for me sometimes!' - and some pretty intense dares, such as the one Finn had done.

'Blaine!' Ethan shouted, now sounding solidly drunk, 'truth or – truth or dare, Blaine?'

Blaine, having already kissed David and taken his pants off as a dare, was now on too much of a roll to refuse another one.

'Dare!' he chirped, his hand running slowly up and down Kurt's thigh, making him feel more lightheaded than he already was. Ethan pressed something on his phone and grinned slowly.

'You have to kiss Kurt as passionately as you can for two minutes,' he told him, and Blaine's eyes lit up as though he'd just won his championship fight. Kurt blinked and before he knew it, he felt Blaine's lips on his, kissing him deeply.

He tasted of alcohol and it was a little sloppy, but it ignited something in Kurt and he wrapped his arms around him firmly and kissed back with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

After a few moments, something inside him clicked and he began to feel very, very hot. He felt as though he needed _more_ of Blaine, so he leaned backwards and they fell back onto the couch they were sitting on, Blaine on top of Kurt, their kissing a lot more feverish.

There were sounds of whoops in the background, but Kurt and Blaine ignored them, their hands running across each other boldly, slipping under shirts, their tongues locked in a fiery battle. Kurt felt himself moan and Blaine stilled for a split second before kissing him with a new vigor. He felt Blaine's hand slip down to hold onto his waist and he grinded his hips against Kurt's.

Kurt felt a shock run through him and he moaned again.

'Get it Hummel!' he heard Santana shout, and he sat up, looking at Blaine hungrily.

'We're going to have to quit this game, guys,' he told them all, grabbing Blaine's hand and pulling him to his feet. Blaine grinned, looking pleased with himself, and he grabbed a mostly-full bottle of alcohol from the floor.

The people in the room shouted suggestively, Finn looking more concerned than encouraging. But Kurt grinned at them all and began to lead Blaine up the stairs.

'Where are the bedrooms?' he murmured, pressing a kiss to Blaine's throat. Blaine swallowed thickly.

'U-up,' he managed to reply, and they made their way to the second floor, Kurt still pressing kisses to Blaine's neck.

Blaine's head was swimming from the alcohol and the effect Kurt was having on him. He didn't know how far things would get if they made it to a bedroom – his body was screaming yes and his mind was becoming more lenient under the effects of the alcohol, but he didn't want to regret this in the morning.

Kurt pushed a door open and they were greeted by the sight of a tastefully decorated bedroom – all wooden furnishings and cream colored walls. A king sized bed stood proudly in the middle of the room, and after locking the door securely behind them, Kurt began to back Blaine up to the bed until the backs of his were against the frame and Kurt was kissing him deeply again.

Blaine's body responded quicker than his mind did, and he lifted Kurt into his arms and – stumbling slightly – took him to the side of the bed and laid him down gently, climbing on top of him.

They'd been in his position many times before, but never like this. Kurt's hands were becoming more and more bold with every passing second and Blaine could feel his breath picking up, his body igniting as though someone had set his nerves on fire. He remembered he wasn't even wearing pants when he felt Kurt's hands brush the waistband of his briefs and a shock went through him.

He broke the kiss and smiled down at Kurt.

'This isn't fair at all,' he told him, his words still slurred slightly, and he moved so he was straddling Kurt's thighs, his hands moving to unbutton his jeans.

He could see Kurt bite his lip, his eyes shining and dark, showing no signs of wanting Blaine to stop. After the button came the zip and Blaine began to shimmy Kurt's jeans down his legs, his eyes raking over the inches of creamy, flawless skin that was now exposed.

The pants came off with some difficulty – Blaine's motor skills weren't at their finest – and he pulled Kurt in for another heated kiss, experimentally rolling his hips against Kurt's.

The moan he got in response served only as encouragement, and his hands slipped to the hem of Kurt's shirt, beginning to lift it over his head. They broke the kiss for only a moment, and Blaine threw the shirt to the floor before stripping off his own.

Years of kickboxing and training had left him with a very toned body. He watched as Kurt's eyes travelled over his body, drinking in the sight of him.

'Beautiful.' he heard Kurt murmur, and it was enough to turn Blaine's heart to a puddle. He kissed him again, softer this time. The kiss quickly heated up again and Blaine grinded his hips against Kurt's, harder this time, relishing the soft groan that came after.

'God, Blaine, that feels so good,' Kurt breathed against his lips, his hand moving to tangle in Blaine's hair. His head dropped back against the pillow and Blaine moved his lips to Kurt's throat, sucking the porcelain skin into his mouth, marking him as his hips moved against Kurt's once again. Kurt's moans grew and Blaine could feel heat coiling in his stomach at the sound. A hand moved down to run over Kurt's thighs, and Blaine could feel Kurt's breath picking up underneath him.

He let his hand brush against the crotch of Kurt's underwear and Kurt moaned loudly. Blaine froze for a moment and Kurt looked at him pleadingly.

'Don't stop.'

Blaine bit his lip, sense returning to him slowly.

'Kurt, we haven't been dating for long,' he reminded him, his words barely slurring now, 'I don't think we're ready for this.'

'But _Blaine_,' Kurt protested, trying to press himself into Blaine's hand again, and Blaine moved it away slowly, 'I want this, I swear I do.'

'Kurt, you're drunk.'

'I'm sober enough to make this decision!'

'Kurt,' Blaine sighed, and looked directly into Kurt's eyes, who looked solemn, 'tell me you want this. Look me in the eyes and tell me you won't regret this in the morning.'

There was a thick pause and Kurt nodded.

'I won't regret this,' he promised, 'I swear. I could never regret you.'

Blaine kissed him softly then.

'We're not going all the way,' he told him, 'not like this. Not tonight.'

Kurt nodded and they kissed again, lingering this time, before it deepened and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, pulling him back onto the bed.

Blaine's hands began to wander, slowly and more cautiously this time, mind still fumbling over the alcohol, his hands following suit. He had no idea what he was doing, but the way Kurt was breathing and moaning beneath him, he had to be doing something right.

He trailed a line of kisses down Kurt's neck, stopping every so often to mark the skin. His trail of kisses continued down Kurt's body, then back up again until Kurt was squirming beneath him.

'Please, Blaine, just _touch _me,' he begged, voice breathy and thick with anticipation. Blaine took a moment to compose himself and then his hand snaked between their bodies, running over the front of Kurt's briefs.

He didn't want to go too far. This wasn't how he'd wanted it to happen – he'd pictured a nice dinner and then a nice, dimly lit bedroom and sobriety. But Kurt was pleading with him and he couldn't deny him what he wanted – not to mention his own body was feeling the effects of so much alcohol and lust. He palmed Kurt through his briefs, the boy moaning wantonly into his mouth before he slipped his hand under the fabric and paused.

'Are you sure?' he asked again, tone serious. Kurt nodded just as seriously, his eyes clear and not clouded by alcohol. Blaine kissed him softly, lovingly, and started to move his hand, hesitantly at first, but with more confidence as Kurt threw his head back and matched his strokes with thrusts of his hips.

And when it was over, after they had cleaned up as best as they could, they'd held each other closer than they'd ever held each other before, pressing sweet kisses to each other's cheeks and temples, murmuring soft words of affections to him.

And Blaine wanted so badly to tell him he loved him, because he was beginning to think he did. The way his heart raced for the beautiful boy in his arms couldn't just be a crush. But he knew the circumstances weren't right – and he wasn't sure if it was just the alcohol talking – so he just closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

* * *

><p>Blaine sat up slowly, eyes blinking to adjust to the unusually harsh light. As soon as his eyes were open fully, he felt as though someone had struck him across the head violently.<p>

He grabbed his head, which was now pounding ferociously in what was possibly the worst hangover he'd ever experienced in his life. He saw Kurt was still sleeping peacefully and decided not to wake him, choosing instead to find his phone and pants and perhaps someone who might have woken up by now.

Every step was pure torture, and his stomach was churning, making him feel nauseous beyond comprehension. He made it out of the room, shutting the door behind him, and somehow got to the basement without throwing up.

What he noticed was that the room was absolutely _trashed _– there were empty bottles all over the floor, some couches had been overturned, and there was a multitude of sleeping people draped over the backs of couches or on the floor. He spotted his pants twisted between Wes' legs and he stumbled over to them, yanking them away violently. Wes grumbled in his sleep and turned over, and Blaine quickly put the pants on, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head. He felt his phone in his pocket and pulled it out, blinking rapidly when he was the time.

It was one in the afternoon.

His training had been scheduled for eleven.

He then noticed he had twelve missed calls from Martin. It was official – he was dead.

Trying desperately to disregard the feeling in his stomach and his head – the room already smelt like vomit and was making him feel even worse – he made his way to the hallway closet and retrieved his bag in which he had his training clothes and ducked into the nearest bathroom.

As soon as he saw the toilet, his stomach lurched, and he was kneeling next to the bowl in an instant, his stomach emptying the contents of his stomach. He groaned and stood up, spitting into the bowl, before going to the sink to wash his mouth. He spotted mouthwash and decided he'd use that, but in his half-awake state he'd swallowed some, which didn't agree with his stomach at all, and he found himself throwing up again.

He groaned and washed his mouth out again and changed before packing his clothes into the bag and stepping out of the house. He would text Kurt later to tell him where he was – he was actually surprised none of them were awake yet.

He made it to the gym somehow, headache merely intensifying as he had to actually concentrate on the road ahead of him, and he ducked into the gym as the clock hit 1:35. He went to go to the change rooms, but was instead greeted by the sight of a very unimpressed Martin.

'Almost three hours, Blaine?' he commented, and made a point of looking at his watch, 'not impressed. Get in the cage.'

'But – I –'

'Now, Blaine.'

Blaine had no choice but to listen to him, heading towards the cage, feeling as though Martin had just given his death sentence. A minute in the ring and he would either be crying from the pain to his head, or throwing up all over the floor. He didn't want to find out which one would happen.

Martin joined him in the cage a few moments later and tossed him a pair of gloves, which Blaine put on with trembling hands. Surely Martin could see how hung over he was? Perhaps if he explained the situation he could skip training today. He knew Martin would be pissed, but it was worth a shot.

'Look, Martin, last night I –' he began, but was interrupted by Martin's fist colliding with the side of his head.

He was almost knocked off balance and tears sprung to his eyes at the pain that shot through him. He quickly put his guard up and deflected another shot from Martin, who was now bouncing around the cage energetically, looking at him almost mockingly.

'Last night what?' Martin asked, throwing another punch which Blaine barely dodged. He winced.

'Nothing,' he replied, throwing a successful punch of his own, 'nothing at all.'

The fight progressed and Blaine avoided the worst of the hits, but his head and his stomach were distracting them. A particularly painful throb in his head made him hesitate for a second, just as Martin kicked him viciously.

The kick connected with his stomach and Blaine felt as though he had been stabbed. He dropped onto all fours and couldn't stop himself from throwing up all over the floor.

He could hear Martin groan from behind him and he threw up again, unable to help himself.

'Blaine, that is _gross_,' Martin moaned, 'are you alright? Here, hang on.'

He looked up and Martin turned back to him after a second, holding a bottle of water. Blaine uncapped it and drank deeply, his eyes stinging from the tears that had formed from such a violent bout of nausea.

'I'll get Reggie to clean that up,' Martin told him, extending his hand, 'come on, you're not training in this state.'

He pulled Blaine to his feet and Blaine walked out of the cage unsteadily, hating alcohol and hang overs and parties and Nick Duval and the New Year.

'How much did you drink last night?' Martin asked, sitting him down on the floor. Blaine groaned, flashes of the evening coming back to him.'

'Too much,' he replied, burying his head in his hands, 'too, too much.'

Martin frowned, 'I'm not going to pretend I approve, Blaine. You're an athlete and you shouldn't be doing this to your body.'

'It was a one off thing,' Blaine assured him, lifting his head, 'you know I don't generally drink or anything.'

'How was the party anyway?'

'It was… good,' Blaine replied, and then he grinned as he remembered what had happened with Kurt, 'very good, actually. A lot of fun.'

Martin raised his eyebrows, 'anything good happen?'

Blaine's grin widened, 'oh yeah.'

Talking to Martin about sex wasn't awkward; he'd discovered that after he'd come out to his family. Martin had offered to be his go-to guy, and Blaine had accepted. It was like talking to a close friend, rather than someone who was almost like a father to him.

'You and Kurt uh, do stuff?'

Blaine felt his cheeks tinge pink and he gave a half shrug. Martin smirked at him.

'Ah, I remember being your age,' he commented nostalgically, 'everything was so new and exciting.'

Blaine smiled at that, and had to agree. Then he remembered his train of thought from the night before.

'I, um, it wouldn't be too early to tell him I love him, would it?' he asked sheepishly. Martin cocked his head to the side.

'It's been a month or so, hasn't it?' he asked. Blaine nodded, feeling embarrassed. Martin sighed.

'I don't think love has anything to do with how long you've spent with someone,' he told him, 'and I don't think age has much to do with it, either. Love is about how you connect with someone; how you feel when you're with them, how you feel when you're _not _with them. When you love someone, you feel them with you, always, and every one of their actions has a direct effect on you. The way they talk, what they do, how they _breathe_, it's all in parallel with what you're thinking and feeling and doing. You just feel like no matter where you are or what you're doing, they're a part of you. You miss them even when you're with them and you just… you'll feel it, Blaine. When you feel it, you won't have to ask me. You'll know it's right.'

Blaine looked at him curiously, 'you sound as though you've felt that way about someone before.'

'I did,' Martin admitted, 'once. A long time ago. But it never worked out, you know? There was someone else. But it's okay. I'm glad I got to experience it then, and let me tell you, Blaine, when you feel it, you'll never want to feel anything else.'

Blaine nodded slowly, understanding. He didn't love Kurt – not yet, but he was on his way. Perhaps not anytime soon, but he knew he was heading down that path and it sent a little thrill through him.

'You should just go home and sleep, Blaine,' Martin advised, standing up and offering Blaine his hand, hauling him to his feet, 'and try not to think too much. Don't overwork yourself today, you need to be fresh tomorrow.'

He left him then, and Blaine stared after him, mind swimming. Martin had talked of being in love – and then there was the deal with him and his mother now, and there was 'someone else'. It didn't make sense. What was Martin hiding from him?


	15. Chapter 15

The phone call Blaine received at six that evening was one he never would have suspected.

His phone had rung and he'd seen Finn's name flash on the screen. If this wasn't confusing enough – why would Finn be calling him? - the frantic tone in Finn's voice was enough to worry him.

'_Dude, did you and Kurt have a fight last night?'_

Blaine thought hard for a second but didn't remember anything bad happening between them the night before, 'no, we didn't. Why, what happened?'

'_Kurt hasn't stopped crying since we got home. He said something about 'Blaine' and 'last night' and he's locked himself in his room and he's just been crying and listening to sad music. Can you come see what's going on? Burt's not home and Carole is a little worried about him.'_

Blaine felt his heart sink and he nodded, forgetting Finn couldn't see him.

'_Um, dude?'_

'Oh! Oh, sorry, I nodded instead of saying yes. Yes, of course, I'll be there in ten minutes.'

They hung up and Blaine quickly grabbed his jacket and another bottle of water from the fridge – he was hoping he could flush out his hang over. He got in his car and drove over to Kurt's quickly; where Finn had thrown open the door before he'd even left his car.

'He's downstairs.' he told him in a hushed whisper, eyes darting around nervously as he pulled Blaine into the house. Blaine, knowing where Kurt's room was by now, went downstairs and knocked on the appropriate door.

'Go _away_!' came a miserable voice from inside. Blaine bit his lip, his chest hurting slightly at how upset Kurt sounded. He knocked again.

'Kurt, sweetie,' he called through the door, 'can you please open the door so we can talk?'

There was a momentary pause and the door was open. Kurt stood there; eyes rimmed red, his hair messy, dressed in a pair of old sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. He looked completely depressed and Blaine frowned.

'Blaine? What are you doing here?' Kurt asked, his voice thick with tears.

'I heard you were upset, baby,' Blaine replied soothingly, 'I had to come and see if you were okay. Can I come in?'

Kurt nodded mutely and stepped aside, allowing Blaine to pass. The door was shut and Blaine turned to him. Kurt was leaning against the door, hands over his face.

'Kurt, what's wrong?' Blaine asked gently. Kurt dropped his hands.

'Why weren't you there when I woke up?'

Shit. Blaine bit his lip, remembering that he'd forgotten to leave Kurt any sort of message at all.

'I woke up at one in the afternoon – I had training at eleven. It was awful; Martin was mad and he kicked my ass in the cage and I threw up all over the floor and he sent me home to sleep and rest. I – I was going to text but I guess I was too hung over to remember. Is that what this is about? I'm so sorry, baby.'

'It's – it's not about that.' Kurt told him, voice shaking, 'I mean – it is a little. But – but do you remember what happened l-last night?'

Of course he remembered – how could he ever bring himself to forget something like that? Despite the fact that they were both a little drunk, he knew that it didn't mean any less to him. It was the first time he'd ever been that intimate with a person before and he would never forget it. He nodded slowly.

'I – waking up in the morning after that… without you there…' Kurt started, closing his eyes and shaking his head, 'it hurt, you know? I thought – I thought that I did something wrong.'

'What? Kurt, no!' Blaine exclaimed softly, stepping forward and pulling Kurt into his arms. He felt Kurt begin to cry again and he tightened his hold, running his hand over his back.

'I – I – I know you didn't want to do it,' Kurt sobbed, 'and I was d-drunk and I'm s-sorry and I don't w-want you to h-hate me for it. I – you might not have e-even been ready, I'm so sorry I pressured you.'

'What? Kurt –' Blaine drew away from Kurt and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, 'if I hadn't wanted to do that, I wouldn't have done it, I promise you. I mean, I'll admit that the circumstances weren't really ideal but I'm so glad I could share that with you, and connect with you on that level. I wasn't pressured. And I'm sorry about not being there for you when you woke up – that must have been so hard for you. Forgive me?'

Kurt kissed him gently, 'I have nothing to forgive. How can I ever repay you?'

Blaine chuckled at that.

'You just keep being the amazing boy that you are, baby,' he told him softly, kissing him again. He pulled away and wiped Kurt's tears away, and Kurt laughed shakily.

'I can't believe I found you,' he breathed, taking Blaine's hand, 'I didn't think I'd have this until I was at least in college.'

He led Blaine over to the bed and they sat down cross legged, knees touching.

'Neither did I,' Blaine replied, running his thumb over Kurt's knuckles, 'now I – I can't imagine my life without you.'

Kurt smiled at him and ducked his head, but when he looked back up his eyes were clouded with worry.

'Last night… um, was it… okay?' he asked shyly, 'I – I know it was amazing for me but… how was it for you?'

'Kurt, it was beautiful,' Blaine replied honestly, 'I – I mean, knowing that I could make you feel so – so good. It was amazing. So yeah, it was more than okay, baby.'

Kurt grinned at him properly and now it was Blaine's turn to feel self conscious. Kurt had seemed to enjoy himself last night – but that could have just been the alcohol. He'd never done anything like that with anyone before – what if he was horrible at it next time when they were actually sober?

'And – um, was it… I mean, was that um –'

Kurt squeezed his hand, 'Blaine, that was the best I'd ever felt in my life. I swear. Next time, I – I hope I can return the favor.'

Blaine felt a little shock of heat run through him at the words, but he forced himself to ignore it. He didn't want their relationship to be based on physical aspects – he wanted that connection Martin talked about.

He pulled Kurt into his arms then and no more words were needed. They simply sat there together, leaning against the headboard, hopelessly entangled with each other. Every so often Blaine would press a kiss to Kurt's temple and Kurt would squeeze his hand in response. He didn't know how long they sat there together in that perfect, beautiful silence.

'You know what, Blaine?' Kurt spoke up after a while, his voice soft, 'I lo–'

There was a knock on the door and Blaine heard Kurt swear under his breath. He got up to answer the door, leaving Blaine staring after him.

Was he about to say what he thought he was about to say?

Did Kurt really love him?

Blaine bit his lip – if Kurt did love him, he couldn't say it back without lying. He didn't love Kurt, not just yet. But Kurt seemed so sure when he began to talk and maybe that meant that there was something wrong with him if he wasn't able to reciprocate his feelings.

Carole was at the door, wanting to know if Blaine wanted to stay for dinner. He took this as his cue to leave – he didn't want to put himself in a situation where Kurt could tell him he loved him properly. He just wasn't ready for that.

'I'm afraid my mother will be waiting for me,' Blaine smiled at her, looking apologetic, 'I should be going anyway.'

'Alright, sweetie,' Carole beamed at him, 'come round whenever you want.'

Blaine nodded and Carole went back upstairs. He liked Carole – she was so motherly and such a nice woman. Kurt turned to him, pouting.

'Do you really have to go?'

Blaine nodded, 'alas, my dear, I must go home.'

Kurt frowned but led him upstairs nevertheless. They lingered at the doorway, their goodbye taking much too long as it always did.

'Thank you for coming and seeing if I was okay,' Kurt smiled, pressing a kiss to Blaine's forehead, 'I don't know what I would do without you.'

'Just doing my job,' Blaine replied casually, pulling him in for a proper kiss, 'I'm glad you're alright now.'

'Of course I am. You're here. Blaine, I l –'

Blaine felt himself start to panic and he quickly pressed his lips to Kurt's one more time.

'I'll see you tomorrow,' he told him quickly, and then was gone.

Kurt stared after him, confused, but shut the door regardless and went to help Carole with dinner.

* * *

><p>'Kurt tried to tell me he loved me.'<p>

'Bike now, talk later,' Martin replied, though his eyebrows rose at the statement. Blaine rolled his eyes at him but pedaled faster, sweat dripping down his face. It was his make-up training session with Martin the next day, and Kurt's words were weighing heavily on both his heart and mind. He pushed harder still, until he was gasping for breath, and Martin allowed him to get off the bike.

'So, what's this about Kurt?' he asked, taking a swig of water. Blaine bit his lip.

'He tried to tell me he loved me,' he told him, 'twice. The first time his stepmum knocked on the door before he could get the words out and the seconds time I – uh, I stopped him from saying it.'

'What? Why?'

'I'm not ready,' Blaine admitted, 'I think being in love is a big, big deal and I don't love him back. I wouldn't want to hurt him by not being able to say it back.'

'Blaine,' Martin sighed, 'you just have to be honest with him. If he loves you, he'll wait until you're read. And it's no surprise that you aren't – you're still so young.'

'I'm eighteen next year,' Blaine reminded him, perhaps a little bit defensively, 'I mean, I know I'm going to fall in love with him and – and I think I might be starting to already but… I don't know. This is a big deal for me. What was it like for you?'

'I think I just fell straight into it, too fast,' Martin admitted, his eyes a little misty with nostalgia, 'I was around your age, maybe just a little older – and it was a summer thing but it turned into a lot more. I – I never really got over it, to be honest.'

'But… you're like, in your thirties.' Blaine frowned, 'what – thirty six? That's a long time to love someone.'

Martin smiled, 'when you fall in love – when you _really_ fall in love, and you give that person your heart, it's forever, Blaine.'

Blaine bit his lip – if falling in love meant so much, why were there break ups and divorces? Martin seemed to notice his confusion and he smiled gently.

'People break up because they haven't found the right person,' he told him, 'you might think you have but if that person isn't the one you were meant to be with, it'll fall apart.'

'Is that what happened to you?'

'She was… otherwise preoccupied.'

Blaine frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

Then he remembered something.

'What's going on with you and mum?' he asked.

He didn't see Martin blush often, but now was one of those times where his face flushed considerably. He averted his eyes.

'Nothing, Blaine,' he assured him, but Blaine could hear the lie in his voice, 'just offering her some comfort. She's going through a lot.'

'Oh, I'm _sure_ you're offering her comfort.'

He didn't mean for his tone to be so harsh, but when Martin looked back at him, he could see the slight hurt swimming through his eyes. He immediately felt guilty – sometimes he really needed to watch what he said before it came out.

'Blaine, your mother and I have known each other for a really long time. We need each other right now, okay? We're all hurting.'

Blaine crossed his arms over his chest but didn't say anything more. He wanted Martin and his mother to be happy, of course, but his father had died half a year ago – it was too soon, far too soon, for any of them to be moving on. If Martin was offering his mother solace, he hoped it was in a friendly manner. There was something about his father's best friend and his wife sneaking around after his death. It just didn't seem right.

'Alright, that's enough of a break. Get on the treadmill, Blaine.'

Martin was being short with him and honestly, he couldn't blame him. He wondered if his mother was the girl Martin had loved for so long – but it seemed unlikely. Twenty years was too long of a time for him to be pining over his mother, especially after she had married his father.

As he ran on his treadmill, he let his mind drift to Kurt. This was a technique he'd discovered recently – if he distracted himself with thoughts of Kurt while he trained, he could run faster and longer without feeling the need to stop.

How could Kurt love him after such a short amount of time?

The more he thought about it, the more he could make sense of it all. He couldn't trust himself to love someone yet, not for a while. He'd loved his father more than anything and he'd died and taken a part of Blaine with him. If the same happened with Kurt – or if something happened to their relationship – he didn't know if he could take it.

He was still healing. He still needed to accept his father's death before he could truly move on and offer himself up again. But he didn't know how to do it – healing meant tears and that was something he didn't want to attempt.

Because if he started crying, he didn't think he'd be able to stop.

* * *

><p>'I know what you're doing, Blaine.'<p>

Blaine looked up from his sandwich at lunch the next day and frowned at Kurt in confusion.

'What am I doing?' he asked, though he had a feeling he knew where Kurt was going with this. Kurt just stared at him, hurt shining in his eyes.

'I've tried to tell you how I – I _feel_ at least five times already,' Kurt told him steadily, 'and you keep making up excuses to change the subject or you kiss me to shut me up.'

'Kurt –'

'No, Blaine, listen.' Kurt's eyes narrowed, 'did you think at all how that made me feel? I've never felt so – so _rejected_ in my whole life; by my own boyfriend! All I want to do is – is just _share _this with you, because this is how I feel about you and I _want_ you to know, because I don't want to have to hide anything from you –'

'I'm not ready!'

Kurt shut his mouth and looked at Blaine, who was hastily wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He sighed.

'Look, Kurt,' he started softly, 'this isn't about you. It's not like I have anything against you – you saying it. I just… I'd rather you didn't because I can't say it back just yet. I want to be able to be honest with you too, and I just – I'm not ready. After what happened with dad, it's hard for me to jump straight into things like this. I need time.'

Kurt's expression softened and he nodded, reaching out to take Blaine's hand.

'I thought you just didn't want me to…' he admitted, 'and it hurt a little bit. But take all the time you need, I completely understand. But – but you will one day, won't you?'

His eyes were shining with an anxious sort of hope and Blaine felt heat begin to rise in his chest.

'Definitely,' he assured him, squeezing his hand, 'I – I think I'm starting to. Believe me, when I'm ready… I'll tell you.'

Kurt nodded and pressed a kiss to Blaine's cheek. As much as it pained him that Blaine didn't love him back, he was willing to wait. He would wait forever if he had to.

'I was thinking about singing a song to you in glee club this afternoon,' he told Blaine conversationally. Blaine smiled at him.

'What song might that be?' he asked.

Kurt winked, 'it's a secret.'

Blaine couldn't suppress another smile and he leaned in to kiss Kurt properly. He had no idea how he'd landed himself such an amazing, understanding boyfriend. He only hoped he could give Kurt what he wanted – he wanted to fall in love with this boy.

Blaine could hardly wait for glee club that afternoon – they were getting ready for Sectionals and it was getting pretty hectic, much unlike the Warbler rehearsals, which were planned meticulously down to the last detail. But Blaine wanted to hear Kurt sing. He was surprised he would even want to sing for him after he had practically shot him down earlier.

He knew Kurt was amazing and he knew that he would undoubtedly fall head over heels for him, but he needed to rid himself of the emotional baggage weighing him down already. If he were to let go of his past – well, not let go; he'd never completely be able to let what happened go, but perhaps accept it and prepare himself to move on and continue with his life, then he knew he would devote himself entirely to Kurt. How could he not?

Mr. Schuester began his usual motivational babble, something Blaine was getting used to hearing. He'd never seen someone with so much faith in their students; he looked as though he was prepared to give them the whole world in an instant. The man was like a fatherly figure to the group and was something he really admired. The Warblers didn't have an adult to guide them and they'd always been left to fend for themselves. It was wonderful to see someone devoting their time and effort into something as under appreciated as the Arts.

'Mr. Schue?' Kurt suddenly spoke up when there was a lull in his speech, 'I was wondering if I could perhaps sing something today?'

Mr. Schuester smiled at Kurt and gestured to the front of the room, 'the floor is yours, Kurt.'

Kurt shot a smile at Blaine and made his way to the front of the classroom where the people in the room watched, intrigued. He took a deep breath.

'I'd like to dedicate this song to Blaine,' he told them all shamelessly, 'Blaine,' he turned his attention to his boyfriend, 'I know you've been going through a lot lately and I know that you have trouble expressing your emotions in a healthy way sometimes. I just want you to know that you're not alone and that I'm always going to be here for you to talk to or lean on. I won't disappoint you, I promise.'

The others looked on in interest, the girls smiling, as Kurt and Blaine shared a private look, one filled with compassion and gratitude. Then Kurt smiled at him and began to sing.

_I'll be there for you when the sky falls down  
>I'll be there for you when no one's around<br>I'll be there for you when there's no way out and you're down  
>and you frown<em>

Blaine's expression softened immediately and he felt a dull ache in his chest. The other people in the room began to turn and stare at him, wanting to see his reaction. He could feel his eyes begin to water and he blinked the tears away hastily, an invisible force still tugging at his heart.

Kurt, for his part, had his eyes trained on Blaine, his expression honest and solemn. Blaine felt the tears begin to pool again and he took a shuddering breath, lost in the beautiful clarity of Kurt's voice.

_I know, life won't go your way  
>and you never know what to say<em>

Kurt seemed to notice how emotional Blaine was getting and he held his hand out to him. Before Blaine could even register what was happening, his feet were moving him towards Kurt and he took his outstretched hand, letting them clasp and hang between them loosely, their eyes now locked.

_When you have nothing left  
>I'll still love you more,<em>

Blaine wiped his eyes again, scared he would break down and start crying properly. Kurt raised his other hand and cupped Blaine's cheek gently and wiped away a tear that had started to slip down his cheek.

_I'll be there for you when your smile lights the room  
>and your gloom is all gone<em>

Blaine bit his lip and Kurt pulled him closer, running his thumb over the back of Blaine's hand. The song drew to a close and they shared a long, lingering look before the room burst into applause.

Blaine felt another rush of emotion and, without caring who was looking, pulled Kurt in for a soft kiss. He could hear the girls coo in the background.

'They're so sweet,' he heard Brittany comment, 'I don't see why people don't like dolphins. They're beautiful.'

Blaine pulled away from Kurt and turned to smile at her, and she grinned at him in response. The girls in the room were teary and even the boys looked as though they were having trouble composing themselves.

'Why do you never sing to me like that?' Rachel asked Finn, crossing her arms over her chest. Finn looked sheepish.

'Um, because there are uh, no songs in the world that describe how I feel about you?' he replied hesitantly. She glared at him and faced forward and he looked dejected. Kurt laughed.

'Thanks for letting me sing, Mr. Schue,' he smiled at the teacher, who looked a little misty-eyed himself, 'and Blaine, I meant every word of it. I promise you, I'll be here for you no matter what you need.'

Blaine smiled at him, and noticed his hands were beginning to shake with suppressed emotion. It was too much – after his father died, his mother had become a shell of her old self and he had no one to talk to about his father's death with. Martin would barely even breach the subject – he himself had felt as though someone had torn him apart – and his friends, while sympathetic, had no idea what it was like.

But Kurt did and that was something Blaine would always be grateful for. He just needed some empathy and someone he could trust to let it all out with. But he couldn't do it yet – and certainly not in front of a room full of people. So he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He pushed back all of the tears and feelings that were threatening to overwhelm him and he reopened his eyes and plastered a smile onto his face.

Right now, he was just thankful for the amount of support he had. Though Kurt had been singing to him, he could see the looks on everyone else's faces – they looked as though they agreed and somehow he knew that they were looking out for him, too.

He never thought he would find so much acceptance in a public school in Lima, Ohio, but he was already starting to not be able to imagine his life without he people here with him.


	16. Chapter 16

'I want to come to Westerville with you today, is that alright with you?'

Blaine looked up at Kurt and smiled. They were heading to their lockers after last period, preparing to go home for the day. Blaine was heading to Westerville to train again – something that had become more and more frequent of late. Now he went almost every day, instead of every second day like he had when he first moved to Lima.

'That sounds great,' he replied, turning the dial of his lock, 'but it won't be much fun for you – I'm going to be training and then I'll probably pass out from exhaustion later.'

Kurt laughed lightly, 'I don't mind. I'd love to see you train; besides, you practically live at that gym anyways, I wanna see what it's like.'

'It's been redone recently,' Blaine told him, 'it used to be a lot more broken in. It's alright now, though, but I think I'll always prefer the original.'

'Has Martin always owned it?'

'It was his dad's before it was his,' Blaine replied, 'so yeah, it's been around for ages. It's hands down the best gym in Westerville.'

Kurt smiled at that, and shoved his books into his locker, taking out his bag.

'It seems really special to you,' he commented. Blaine took his hand and squeezed it.

'It is, and I want to share it with you,' he told him softly, 'so yeah, of course you can come along with me. It's a good thing I took you to school today.'

They'd gotten into the habit of driving each other to and from school – it was a lot more convenient; it saved petrol and also time if they wanted to go out for coffee after school.

'Yeah, that's kind of why I asked,' Kurt told him, smiling bashfully, 'I knew you couldn't really say no because you were already taking me home today.'

Blaine laughed at that and they walked hand in hand out of the school, ignoring the looks they were given. Most of the people in the school had grown to ignore their relationship, but a scarce few still didn't approve. Kurt and Blaine noticed the looks they received, but they didn't comment. If anything, the people who didn't support their relationship wouldn't comment out of fear that Blaine would start a fight with them. So their relationship was left blissfully peaceful, something they were both grateful for.

The drive to Westerville seemed to go twice as quick; Kurt and Blaine had turned the radio on and were belting out the lyrics to whatever came on. Then Kurt started complaining that the music on the radio was too meaningless and pointless, so he plugged is iPod into the car and brought up a playlist of show tunes. Blaine didn't know the words to most of the songs that came on, but there was nothing he enjoyed more than hearing Kurt sing; he had a beautiful voice and Blaine couldn't get enough of it.

'Do you mind if we stop off and get coffee first?' Kurt asked as they entered Westerville. He was feeling a little tired and wanted to at least be alert through Blaine's training – especially if that training ended with him being shirtless or something; that was something he did _not _want to witness on a subpar level.

Blaine nodded and turned off into the car park of the local Westerville coffee shop and they went inside. Kurt went up to the counter and Blaine hung back, not wanting anything before training. He let his eyes wander around the shop and they fell on Wes and David, who were sitting near the back of the store, sitting close together, talking animatedly. He smiled; sometimes it was impossible to tell that they were actually straight. Seeing as he was already there and didn't know when he would run into them again, he decided to go and say hello.

They spotted him before he reached the table and eagerly waved him over, sliding over in the booth to make room.

'Blaine, how are you?' Wes asked, giving him a one-armed hug. David, who couldn't reach Blaine from where he was sitting, grinned at him. Blaine smiled at them both.

'I'm good!' he replied, 'I've come up for training, I've got Kurt with me.'

David smiled at that, 'Kurt? That's really nice. He's coming to support you?'

'I guess so. I mean, he wanted to come along and I don't really know any other reason why he'd want to watch me train. It's probably going to be boring for him.'

'That's really nice of him,' Wes commented, 'so everything with you two is going alright?'

Blaine nodded, a proud smile crossing his face, 'everything is fantastic, actually. He sang me a song in glee club yesterday in front of everyone; it was so amazing.'

Wes and David smiled at him sincerely.

'Well, things between you two looked pretty good on New Year's,' David commented slyly, throwing Blaine a wink. Blaine felt his face begin to heat up but he smiled despite himself.

'Yeah, it was pretty good,' he agreed, his smile growing at the memory of the night. David and Wes chuckled suggestively.

'You know, Blaine,' Wes started, swirling his coffee around in its cup, 'we haven't really told you this, but we're glad you have someone now. We were kind of sad to see you so lonely. But you smile a lot now and we haven't seen that since – since your dad, you know, and we're just happy for you.'

Blaine hugged him at that, squeezing him tightly to show his gratitude just as Kurt walked over, coffee in hand.

'I'm ready to go…' he started, before smiling at Wes and David, 'hello, you two. Nice to see you guys again.'

Wes pushed Blaine off of him gently and smiled charmingly up at Kurt.

'Kurt!' he exclaimed, 'always a pleasure.'

'I trust you've been well?' David added. Kurt smiled warmly at them, impressed by their manners, and nodded.

'Very well, actually – but I think Blaine has to go to the gym now and we should probably be going.'

'Of course,' David smiled, 'it was nice seeing you both. Goodbye Kurt. Blaine, drop us a line every so often, okay? Keep in touch.'

Blaine nodded and bid them both farewell, actually walking to the other side of the booth to hug David this time, and left with Kurt. Once they were in the car, Kurt turned to Blaine.

'Why are they so well mannered?' he asked, 'honestly, it's like they've stepped out of a royal family or the 50's.'

Blaine chuckled, 'they're not usually like that. Well, not around me. They were when I first came there, but that's only because they come from old money families and they're very high up on the social ladder and they have to act like that to keep up appearances. Most of the boys at Dalton speak like that.'

'Doesn't it get boring?'

'Nah, they lighten up around their friends. They're actually insane.'

The drive to the gym from the coffee shop was only about ten minutes, and when they got there, Kurt grinned.

'Looks impressive from the outside,' he commented, getting out of the car. Blaine smiled and took his hand to lead him into the gym. He knew all the regulars that came and wouldn't have to worry about being judged here.

When he entered, Kurt looked around excitedly. He however couldn't see Martin anywhere. He said hello to Reggie the cleaner as they passed him.

'Reggie, have you seen Martin?' he asked over his shoulder, thinking that he would probably have seen him. Reggie pointed in the direction of Martin's office, holding a broom in his other hand, brushing it against the floor absentmindedly. Blaine smiled at him and headed off to Martin's office, still holding Kurt by the hand.

When he reached the office, he saw the door was only open a fraction, which was odd because Martin's door was normally always open unless something really important was going on, such as business deals or important phone calls. He pushed the door open and after he looked inside simultaneously dropped both Kurt's hand and his training bag, which hit the floor with a loud _thud_.

It wasn't that his mother was in Martin's office; that would have been justifiable. No, it was the fact that his mother was hopelessly tangled around Martin, her hands around his neck and his around her waist, their lips joined in a passionate kiss.

When the bag hit the floor, they sprung apart and once they saw Blaine, their faces reddened considerably. Blaine could feel the tears well up instantly – he'd never felt so _betrayed _in his life.

'I don't fucking believe this,' he muttered, backing up a few steps before turning and tearing away from the room.

Kurt was left behind and he blinked a few times, his mouth dropping open.

'I – um… I'll just go and – go and get him.' he told them awkwardly. Clarissa brought a hand up to cover her mouth and she sighed shakily, her eyes shutting as she nodded.

Blaine had run out to the car park before his knees gave out. He dropped to them on the sidewalk, his hands trembling as he buried his face in his hands, taking deep shuddering breaths.

Right then, he hated them both so much. How could they do this? It had been six months since his father's death – he couldn't believe they could disrespect him like this. And how could they do this to him? He was Jon's son – that was his _mother_ who was supposed to be grieving after her husband, not kissing his trainer, who had been his father's best friend. He'd trusted them both and he felt that trust vanish in an instant. He could feel the tears stinging fiercely in his eyes and he tried desperately to fight them off.

He heard someone call his name – he recognized the voice as Kurt's. He heard footsteps approaching and then suddenly a pair of warm arms were wrapping around him, pulling him close.

'Let it out, baby,' he heard Kurt breathe into his ear, 'you don't have to be strong for me right now.'

And at his words, every tear Blaine had been holding back, every sad thought, every negative emotion; it all began to tumble out at a frightening pace, and before long Blaine's face was streaked with tears, which flowed down his face heavily, his body shaking with every heart wrenching sob.

But Kurt only held him tighter, whispered words of comfort into his ear as he rocked them back and forth gently. After a while, he pulled Blaine into his lap and Blaine's arms moved around his neck, holding onto Kurt tightly as though he would vanish at any second. His sobs did not subside, not for a while, and Kurt simply held onto him.

He had been holding on to things far too long; he hadn't cried when his father had died, he had to be strong for Martin and his mother, who were wrecks both at the funeral and long after. He hadn't complained once, he hadn't expressed any of his emotions, merely bottling them up, storing them away to deal with at a later time. It was the reason he was so angry – he had so many things he had to say and he just couldn't keep everything composed, so he lashed out. When he moved to Lima, it almost broke his heart to leave the place he'd loved for so long, and to let go of the people. But he'd put on a brave face and locked up all his insecurities, keeping a cool exterior when he was such a mess inside.

But there was only so much he could take, and seeing something like that had just exhausted him. So he cried and cried for what seemed like forever, holding on to Kurt like he was holding on to a life raft in the middle of an ocean. He felt overwhelmed and emotionally spent and he just _needed _this.

Kurt could feel his heart breaking with every one of Blaine's sobs, silent cheeks running down his own face. Of course, he would think Clarissa and Martin had their reasons – and perhaps suppressed feelings, he didn't know – but doing this to Blaine was completely unfair – and incredibly immature; they needed to be able to respect Blaine's feelings and the death of Jon.

Eventually Blaine's sobs had subsided, but the tears still streaked down his face. He drew away from Kurt and looked at him, eyes puffy and red, looking utterly miserable.

'Why would they do that?' he asked, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper, 'to d-dad? To me?'

Kurt sighed, his expression falling into one of absolute heartbreak.

'I don't know, baby,' he replied softly, 'but I want you to know that I'll never do anything like that to you, okay? Blaine, I love you so much.'

And the rush of gratitude and appreciation that Blaine felt then was almost enough to make him tell Kurt he loved him, too, but he kept his mouth shut, a sob escaping his throat. He pressed his lips to Kurt's in a trembling kiss. When they parted, Blaine leaned his head against Kurt's chest and Kurt drew his arms around him tighter, still rocking them back and forth slowly.

Blaine's breathing steadied after a few more minutes and when he looked back at Kurt, he simply looked broken.

'How – how am I meant to trust anyone now?' he asked quietly. Kurt knew what he meant – how was he meant to love after he just had his heart wrenched out?

'Baby, I'll wait,' he assured him, stroking a few curls away from Blaine's forehead, 'and if you're not ready in a week, or a month, or a year, I promise you I'll still be here. I promise.'

Blaine's expression softened and he brought his hand up, his fingers running across Kurt's cheekbone.

'You are the most amazing person I have ever met,' he told him softly before leaning in to kiss him, 'and I want you to know that – that I would be nowhere without you.'

Kurt smiled at him weakly and pulled him in for another tight hug.

'I'll never let you down, Blaine.'

* * *

><p>'We should have been honest with him.'<p>

Martin sighed and ran his hand through his cropped hair, sitting down heavily in his chair.

'He wouldn't have liked it either way,' he replied bitterly, hiding his face in his hands, 'but he certainly didn't deserve to find out like that.'

'But maybe if he understood the history behind it…'

'God, Clarissa, don't you get it?' Martin lifted his head and turned to glare at her, 'you were Jon's wife. I was his best friend – he's Blaine's _father_. He wouldn't understand no matter what we told him.'

Clarissa bit her lip, 'maybe he's right. Maybe what we're doing is wrong.'

Martin stood up and took Clarissa's hands in his; the look he gave her was one full of hurt.

'Clarissa, you know I love you,' he told her softly, 'and I always have. I just – I can't hold that back anymore. It's been so long…'

Clarissa dropped his hands and wiped at her eyes.

'It's too soon,' she whispered, 'we're not ready for this yet – don't look at me like that, we're _not_. You know I love Jon more than anything. I still do, Martin, and I'll never get over him completely. It's why I chose him in the end.'

'You chose him because of Blaine.'

'I chose him because I loved him,' Clarissa corrected sharply, narrowing her eyes at him, 'I might have been pregnant but I knew what I wanted.'

Martin sighed again, and this time it was a little shaky.

'You're right,' he agreed, 'you're completely right. We should wait.'

Clarissa nodded, folding her arms over her chest. The silence between them weighed heavily.

'But… I'll wait for you,' he continued after a moment, sounding slightly hesitant, 'I – I know you love Jon, and I know you always will, okay? But I'll wait. Whenever you're ready, I will be too. I've been waiting all this time, I can wait some more.'

'I don't know what you're waiting for,' Clarissa admitted softly, 'I never did. I knew what you were hiding all these years. It must have been so hard for you. For your friendship with Jon.'

Martin bit his lip, 'I want you to know that I never once blamed Jon. He didn't know what happened – and I'm glad he didn't find out. It would have killed him. I may love you, but I loved him too – he was my brother. I would never have tried to come between you two.'

Clarissa sat on the desk then and twisted a strand of hair between her fingers.

'I always admired that about you,' she told him softly, 'you were always so strong. So full of courage. I think you were the one who taught Blaine how to be so strong.'

Martin's heart dropped at the mention of Blaine. He sighed yet again.

'Blaine is going to hate me,' he groaned, 'not only will this severely impact our trainings and perhaps even the outcome of the title fight, it's – it's going to ruin our relationship. He's like a son to me, Clarissa. I don't want to lose him.'

'Go and talk to him,' Clarissa urged gently, 'I'll talk to him when I get home but – but I think you need to go and clear things up with him now.'

Martin nodded, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. He reached out and gave Clarissa's hand a squeeze before venturing out of his office, looking around the gym for a sign of Blaine.

He locked eyes with Reggie, who shrugged and pointed in the direction of the entrance. Martin took this to mean that Blaine was outside, and sure enough, once he was in the car park he saw Blaine sitting on Kurt, looking miserable.

'Um, Blaine?' he called, his voice shaky with nerves, 'can – can I please talk to you?'

He saw Blaine stare at him for a long moment, before turning and exchanging a glance with Kurt. It was like a silent conversation between them and after a moment Blaine stood hesitantly and walked over to Martin slowly.

Martin bit his lip.

'Do the changing rooms sound okay?' he asked. Blaine nodded, though he didn't directly answer and his piercing eyes were narrowed at Martin. He looked as though he was challenging him.

They walked inside the gym and made their way to the changing rooms. Once inside, Martin shut the door behind them and locked it for good measure. He sighed.

'Look,' he started, twisting his hands nervously, 'I'm going to start this by saying you have absolutely every right to be mad at me.'

'Damn right I do.'

Martin looked at Blaine then, really looked, and saw just how betrayed he looked. He looked as though he'd been crying quite heavily, and it broke Martin's heart.

'I know this is hard for you, Blaine,' he continued softly, sitting on one of the benches, 'I know it is, okay? Your mother and I weren't trying to hurt you by doing this.'

'What is going on with you and her?' Blaine demanded, 'do you realize that dad hasn't been dead for all that long and you _shouldn't_ have moved on already. He was your best friend – why would you go and fool around with his wife?'

Martin hesitated slightly.

'Your mother and I have history,' he admitted, 'and I know I probably should have told you this a long time ago. When we were teenagers we had a summer thing. She – she was dating your father then and we were going behind his back for a while. This was after your mother had graduated. Your father – he never found out. But apparently it meant more to me than your mother because she chose him.'

'The summer after she graduated?' Blaine repeated, sounding confused, 'but… she fell pregnant with me that summer.'

Martin bit his lip and nodded slowly and Blaine's expression turned into one of pure shock.

'You two fooled around while she was _pregnant _with me?'

'No, no,' Martin assured him, his heart sinking, 'when she found out she was pregnant, the reality of the situation hit her. She loved your father, Blaine. She might have had something with me but she loved him more than anything – she loved you more than anything. We fell apart after that – she got over it, I didn't.'

Blaine exhaled shakily, closing his eyes. Martin knew he was trying to regain control of his temper.

'And now?' he asked eventually, looking at Martin with misty eyes, 'what was that?'

'That was…' Martin sighed, defeated, 'I guess that was an attempt at rekindling the past. I never had another chance with your mother and – and that was it.'

'So what, you're glad dad died because you can be with mum now?' Blaine shot, crossing his arms over his chest. Martin suddenly looked angry and he stood up.

'Don't you dare think that,' he snapped, 'Jon was my _best friend_. My brother. I would never want that to happen to him, Blaine. Don't you remember? I'm a mess – I still am. I miss him so much.'

'I miss him too…' Blaine admitted, biting his own lip, 'but I – I don't think dad would have wanted this.'

'Maybe not yet,' Martin agreed, 'but he would want us to be happy, I know he would. And – and your mother, she called it all off, okay? There won't be anything happening between us for a while.'

'Why?'

'Because you were right,' Martin told him softly, 'it's too soon for any of us to be moving on.'

Blaine felt tears prick at his eyes and he let them spill over – he was done with playing strong.

'I'm not okay with this,' he told him honestly, 'I'm really not okay with this. You betrayed my trust – you both did – and I don't think I can forgive you for a long time.'

'I understand, Blaine. Really.'

'But…' Blaine wiped his eyes and sat up a little straighter, 'I love you and I love mum – I love you both more than anything. I want you two to be happy and if it's with each other… well, that's okay. But please just – not now, okay? Give it a few months. A year, I don't know. Please, just respect dad and respect me. I'm not ready for this and you two shouldn't be, either.'

Martin nodded – it was a fair proposition. And Clarissa wanted things over for the time being anyway. He offered Blaine a shaky smile.

'You don't hate me?' he asked hesitantly. Blaine shook his head immediately.

'No, Martin, I don't,' he replied, and Martin could tell he was being honest, 'I'm mad and – and upset, and _so_ disappointed in you both, but I could and will never hate you.'

Martin smiled properly then, his eyes filling with tears. Blaine, unable to help himself, got up and gave him a hug.

'I love you, Martin,' he told him firmly, 'and I hope things work out some day.'

'I love you too, Blaine,' he told him, holding him tighter, 'and I don't expect you to forgive me anytime soon. I just want you to know that if you don't want your mother and I together, we'll respect that. You're like a son to me, Blaine. You are my first priority.'

Blaine pulled away and smiled at that.

'You've been crying,' Martin commented, taking in the puffy eyes and flushed cheeks.

Blaine nodded sheepishly, 'I did. I – I just couldn't take it anymore, you know? I think this just pushed me over the edge. In – in a way, I needed this. I mean, I didn't need _this_ –' he gestured around with his hands and Martin understood what he meant, 'I mean, I just needed an excuse to let everything out. Despite everything, I feel a lot lighter now.'

Martin nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. He couldn't believe he let Blaine down like that – the boy meant everything to him and he just threw away his trust like that. But he was glad Blaine was able to finally allow himself to cry.

'When you get home tonight, please don't give your mother a hard time, okay? This is killing her.'

Blaine's eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he nodded slowly.

'I get how hard this must be for her,' he relented after a moment, 'but I don't understand her method of coping.'

Martin shrugged, 'I think I understand. Apart from you, I'm the only connection she has left to Jon. She must think it's a way to get close to him again.'

'Mum's using you and you're not even mad?' Blaine asked slowly, obviously not understanding. Martin shrugged again.

'I'd do anything for her.'

'You love her.'

Martin's eyes instantly filled with tears, 'you have no idea, Blaine. I spent twenty years loving her. I don't think I'll ever find someone else.'

Blaine felt something pull at his heart and he suddenly felt guilty – it seemed selfish now, not allowing his mother and Martin to be happy together. But then again, it _was _too soon. He was confused. He wanted his mother and Martin to be able to move on and heal but the way they were doing it was wrong. It was wrong for the moment – but in a while, who knows? Maybe he could get used to Martin being part of his family officially.


	17. Chapter 17

Friday afternoon rolled around and Kurt and Blaine found themselves in the choir room, pressed up against the wall, locked in a passionate kiss.

Glee club had just let out and after spending the entire practice eyeing each other suggestively, the tension had been too much to bear, so after Mr. Schue had left the room Blaine had pushed Kurt up against the first available wall and pressed his lips to his heatedly.

'I want to come to your house,' Kurt breathed between kisses, 'and I want to stay the night and I want to make you dinner and I want to fall asleep in your arms tonight. Is that okay with you?'

Blaine merely nodded, a wave of heat crashing through him at Kurt's words as he kissed him again. He'd had an awful week and could use some quality time with Kurt – especially after all Kurt had done for him in the past few days; he could feel himself falling harder for him with each passing day and a night of beautiful, uninterrupted time with his boyfriend sounded absolutely perfect to him.

Every time he saw Kurt now, his heart would begin to race and his palms would grow sweaty and he felt as though his life had turned into one huge cliché. Everything Kurt did now, every laugh, every smile, ever word he said; it all took Blaine's breath away, and feelings he never thought he would experience were taking him to completely new heights. If he wasn't already in love with Kurt, he was damn near almost there and if it felt this good already, he couldn't wait to feel everything he possibly could for his boyfriend.

Kurt pulled away and grinned at him, taking him by the hand and leading him out into the corridor and out of the school to his car. He had driven them to school that day, and after firing off a quick text to his father, he started the car and pulled out of the car park.

'How is your dad so cool with you staying at mine?' Blaine asked curiously after a moment, 'I didn't think he would let you.'

'I told him I was going to have a girl's night at Brittany's,' Kurt laughed, 'I know the girls will cover for me if Finn or dad ask.'

Blaine grinned at that, glad that the girls were supportive of their relationship.

'What about you? Will your mum mind if I come over?'

Blaine bit his lip at that – after he had come home from the gym, he and his mother hadn't really talked. It's not like he didn't want to talk to her – he did, he wanted everything to be okay between them. But he just couldn't find the right words to say and she seemed to be too ashamed to start a conversation with him. Contact between the two was strained and awkward and Blaine found himself starting to miss the relationship they had. It felt like it had when his father had just done and his mother had retreated into herself – he felt as though he was losing her.

'She won't mind,' he assured Kurt, though he stared ahead determinedly.

Kurt had noticed that Blaine acted off whenever his mother was mentioned, and he was meaning to ask how their talk had gone after he had come home. He hoped they were okay; he couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for Blaine to lose his father and then lose his relationship with his mother in such a short space of time.

When they reached Blaine's house, his mother wasn't even home. Instead, there was a note taped to the fridge, addressed to Blaine.

_Baby,_

_I've headed off to visit Deidre tonight. I've left you money in your room for food and anything else you might need. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, I just figured you could use some time by yourself after everything that's happened. If you want to have Kurt over, that's fine too, but please be responsible._

_I love you, Blaine,_

_Mum_

Blaine took the note out from the magnet it was under and stared at it for a long moment before sighing and placing it on the counter.

'Looks like we have the place to ourselves tonight,' he told Kurt, turning around to see that Kurt was looking through his refrigerator. He raised his eyebrows in amusement, glad that Kurt felt comfortable enough to use the things in his house without asking.

'I think I can make a really nice risotto with what we have,' he announced, shutting the fridge door, 'but that can wait, can't it? I'm not really hungry right now.'

Pierre trotted into the room then and Kurt smiled at the sight of him. The puppy was still growing rapidly, and he becoming a very intelligent, gentle dog. He scratched him behind the ears as Blaine took a seat at the counter.

'I'm not hungry either,' Blaine replied, drumming his fingers against the countertop, 'maybe we can cook when it gets dark or something? Dinner when it's sunny outside doesn't seem like much fun.'

Kurt grinned suddenly, 'do you have candles? We can make it a date.'

Blaine blanched.

'Oh my goodness, we've almost been dating for two months and we haven't had anything but a coffee date. I think mum would have candles somewhere. A date sounds lovely.'

Kurt walked around the table and kissed Blaine softly on the lips.

'Then let me take care of everything, okay? I want to do something special for you.'

Blaine frowned, 'but I want to help. You've done too much for me this week anyway.'

'I did those things because I lo –' Kurt hesitated and bit his lip, 'because I care about you and I wanted to.'

Blaine looked up at him, his eyes shining with emotion.

'You can say it, you know,' he told him quietly, 'I – I think I need to hear it.'

Kurt smiled shyly, 'I did it because I love you.'

Blaine felt his stomach twist gleefully at his words and again, the phrase was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back, choosing instead to stand up and pull Kurt into his arms for a long embrace.

'Don't go all out on dinner tonight,' he told him quietly, 'we can just cook something up quickly – right now, I think we deserve a nap.'

Kurt nodded at him and they went up to Blaine's room hand in hand. Once inside, Kurt collapsed face-first onto Blaine's bed and sighed contentedly.

'Your bed is so much better than mine,' he commented, rolling onto his back, 'I could stay in here forever.'

'Please do,' Blaine laughed, lying down next to Kurt and pulling him into his arms, 'you know, I'm so glad to have you here. It would have killed me to spent the night alone.'

Kurt rolled onto Blaine and kissed the tip of his nose.

'It's my pleasure,' he smiled, kissing Blaine's cheek, then his lips before leaning his head on Blaine's chest. After a moment he chuckled.

'Your heart is beating really fast,' he commented, running his fingers over Blaine's heart. Blaine felt himself turn pink slightly.

'It's because you make my heart race, Kurt,' he told him softly, and at this, Kurt rolled off him and sat up straight. Blaine sat up too and he took Kurt's hand in his, 'you – you do so many things to me; make me feel so much.'

'Blaine,' Kurt bit his lip and looked down at their joined hands, 'I love you.'

He looked up, his eyes shining with hope. Blaine's mouth opened and then shut, and he looked a little troubled. Kurt sighed.

'It's alright, Blaine,' he assured him, giving his hand a squeeze, 'if you're not ready, don't feel like you need to say it.'

Blaine bit the inside of his cheek.

'It's on the tip of my tongue,' he admitted, 'but I just can't seem to get the words out.'

There was a small silence, but Kurt smiled at him after a moment.

'It's okay, Blaine,' he told him softly, 'it's okay. Let's just – let's just sleep, okay?'

Blaine nodded and pulled Kurt into his arms once again, falling back against the pillows. He pulled the covers over them and Kurt snuggled closer to him. Eventually, his breathing leveled out and Blaine knew he was asleep. The thought soothed him and he shut his eyes, falling asleep himself only moments later.

* * *

><p>When Blaine woke up, the bed was empty. Confused, he padded into the hallway where an absolutely divine scent was coming from the kitchen. He checked the time on the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost seven o'clock – he'd been asleep for hours. He went downstairs to the kitchen and leaned against the doorway, smiling at the sight before him.<p>

Kurt had his back turned to him, an apron tied around his waist, humming slowly as he worked on something on the stove top. There were numerous amounts of ingredients lying on the counter and the air was heavy with the fragrant smell of chicken and mushrooms.

'There's a sight I could get used to waking up to,' Blaine commented loudly, causing Kurt to jump slightly and spin around, blushing lightly.

'Did you sleep well?' he asked, 'I didn't want to wake you so I thought I could get dinner started.'

Blaine smiled warmly at him and crossed the kitchen to kiss him briefly. Honestly, if Kurt kept proving himself to be more and more perfect as the night went on, he'd have absolutely no problem admitting how he felt about him. Kurt leaned into the kiss briefly before pulling away and turning back to the stove. Blaine made a noise of protest and Kurt laughed.

'I don't want the risotto to stick to the bottom,' he explained, stirring the rice, 'the trick to getting it perfect is to never stop stirring.'

Blaine rolled his eyes at that – he was never really fond of cooking, usually opting for a sandwich when he was hungry. He knew Kurt was very passionate about food and that he was very, very good at cooking. Of course, Blaine didn't mind if Kurt wanted to cook in his house at all – it only meant more food for him.

'Oh, and don't go into the dining room,' Kurt ordered, glancing at Blaine over his shoulder, 'and I mean like, seriously don't. I'll be upset with you.'

Blaine figured that Kurt had set something up in there, so he sat at the counter and simply watched as Kurt cooked. His cheeks were a little pink from the heat of the stove and his hair was slightly tousled from sleep and every time he looked at Blaine, his lips would twitch into his beautiful smile.

Blaine felt his heart begin to ache and he knew that he was beyond simply liking Kurt. If anything, he was far from it – how could he merely like him? Someone who was there for him unconditionally at the drop of a hat, who slept with him merely to sleep, who cooked him food and set up dates in his dining room. Someone who was so beautiful and brave and honest while managing to be snarky and sarcastic and witty and intelligent – everything he'd ever wanted in a partner was right in front of him and Blaine knew that there was no going back now.

'Can you come and try this for me to see if it's okay?' Kurt asked after a while, dipping a spoon into the rice and blowing on it to cool it down. Blaine hopped over the counter – the side which wasn't covered in food – and tried to take the spoon from Kurt. Kurt held it out of his reach and smiled. Blaine understood what he wanted him to do and opened his mouth, Kurt feeding him the mixture.

It tasted amazing, and Blaine couldn't help but shut his eyes as Kurt pulled the spoon from his mouth slowly. He felt a twitch below the belt and his cheeks began to heat up.

'That's beautiful, Kurt,' he told him, opening his eyes. Kurt smirked and turned back to his pot.

'It'll be done soon, I think. You can go and wait in the dining room now.'

Blaine did as he was told and when he entered the dining room, he smiled. It was dimly lit and there were candles on the table, not yet lit. Kurt had dug out their fine china and had somehow managed to find some potpourri to sprinkle over the tablecloth. There was a pitcher of iced water on the table and their tall, crystal wine glasses. He grinned to himself, amazed at how lucky he was to have Kurt, and sat down. A few minutes later, Kurt bustled into the room, holding the pot, a pair of oven mitts on his hands.

'Dinner is served, my dear,' he announced, setting the pot down in the middle of the table. Blaine felt his mouth begin to water as Kurt picked up a lighter from next to a candle and lit them all. He sat down in the seat diagonal to Blaine's.

Blaine took the ladle from the pot and picked up Kurt's plate, spooning a generous amount in it before setting it down in front of him and filling his glass with water. Touched at the gesture, Kurt pecked him on the cheek as Blaine began to fill his own plate and glass.

The meal was enjoyed in silence for a few moments, before Blaine reached out and covered Kurt's hand with his.

'Thank you so much for this,' he smiled softly, his eyes shining in the candlelight, 'no one has ever done something so amazing for me before.'

'It's just dinner, Blaine,' Kurt reasoned, but he was smiling, his cheeks flushing slightly. Blaine brought his hand up to his lips and he kissed it gently.

'It's so much more than dinner, Kurt,' he argued softly, 'it's proof of how selfless and beautiful you really are.'

Kurt blushed properly at his words and leaned across the table to kiss Blaine. They parted, both slightly flushed, and returned to their meal.

'So, what's going on with you and your mum?' Kurt asked hesitantly after a few moments. Blaine swallowed his mouthful of water and shrugged.

'I haven't really spoken to her, to be honest,' he replied, and Kurt could hear the pain in his voice, 'I just – I don't know what to say to her, you know? She's obviously too disappointed in herself to try and talk to me and I don't know how to bring it up. It sucks. I really miss her.'

Kurt winced sympathetically and squeezed Blaine's hand.

'You two love each other, I'm sure it'll all work out soon.'

'I hope so,' Blaine sighed.

'Alright, onto something happier,' Kurt smiled, 'are you enjoying your dinner? It's so nice to be able to spend some time with you on our own – there's always something interrupting us. I'm really glad we could do this.'

Blaine smiled warmly at him and nodded.

'I've just wanted to spend some time alone with you for such a long time. This is beautiful, we have to do this more often.'

Kurt nodded in agreement and they finished their meal talking about trivial subjects. When they were done, Kurt insisted that Blaine leave his plate and that it would all be taken care of later.

'Right now, I just want to spend some time with you without worrying about dishes or anything,' Kurt told him, 'is that okay?'

Blaine nodded and they went back upstairs to Blaine's room. Even though they were alone in the house, Kurt shut the door behind him.

'I feel safer when it's shut,' he explained once Blaine had raised his eyebrows, 'there's just something about doors being open that I don't really like.'

It makes sense to some extent, and it wasn't as though Blaine really minded, so he sat on the bed and opened his arms. Kurt sat on Blaine's lap and immediately pressed his lips to his, kissing him deeply.

When they pulled apart, they were both slightly breathless, and Blaine's stomach began to churn again. He felt as though he was on a rollercoaster, or on a swing. He smiled at Kurt.

'I have such a good time when I'm with you,' he told Kurt, 'no matter what we're doing, it's always perfect. You're perfect, Kurt.'

Kurt smiled and began to sing, '_pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel, like you're less than, less than perfect._'

Blaine grinned, remembering when they'd sung that song together.

'You were perfect from the moment I saw you. As soon as you walked into English that day, I was yours,' he admitted – and it was true. Kurt had captivated him from the start. Kurt laughed.

'I know how you feel – I saw you and I felt like someone had winded me. I'm sorry for not talking to you that lesson; I was just so nervous.'

Blaine pushed back a few strands of Kurt's hair out of his face and then cupped his cheek gently.

'You have nothing to be nervous about,' he murmured, 'a boy like you could have anyone he wants.'

Kurt leaned his forehead against Blaine's, 'that's good, because I would love it if you were mine.'

'I'm yours for as long as you want me, Kurt. I promise.'

Kurt kissed him again this time, soft and slow, and Blaine could feel the love pouring into him. He'd never felt so connected to someone like this in his life – he'd never had such a deep bond to anyone. Kurt felt like he was a part of him, like he needed him to be whole. His heart begin to pound quickly and the words began to gather at the back of his throat and when they pulled apart, Kurt's eyes were shining with emotion and Blaine felt as though a dam had broken inside of him.

'I love you, Kurt.'

The expression on Kurt's face then almost brought him to tears – his eyes began to water and the most breathtaking smile he'd ever seen appeared on his face. He hugged Blaine tightly, squeezing for all he was worth, and Blaine could feel tears dripping onto his shoulder.

'I love you too,' Kurt breathed, pulling apart and pressing a kiss to Blaine's lips, 'I love you so much.'

Blaine was torn between wanting to cry and wanting to laugh, so he did both. His eyes began to spill over and he laughed joyously, kissing Kurt again and again.

'I don't know how I could deny it for so long,' he admitted, 'I don't know how I couldn't realize this from the second I saw you. Kurt, you give me so much strength and hope; I don't know where I'd be without you right now.'

Kurt pulled Blaine back against the pillows then and they didn't have to speak anymore, the gaze they shared communicating all that needed to be said. They might have been young and they might not have been dating for long, but this was something both boys had been craving for so long. They had beaten the odds; two gay teenagers in Ohio couldn't possibly have found love, but they had managed to; they'd managed to find each other and they wouldn't be letting go without a fight.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Shameless fluff, we all needed it. :) <strong>


	18. Chapter 18

Saturday dawned early for Blaine as it usually did – he was never one to sleep in – and the first thing he noticed was the beautiful boy laying next to him.

Kurt's eyes were still closed, his hair falling gently across his forehead, dappled sunlight both illuminating his features and casting them into shadow. His breathing was level and deep and his lips slightly parted and Blaine felt his breath hitch in his throat – he was flawless.

He untangled himself from Kurt as gently as he could, trying not to wake him. It had to be only seven o'clock, and he decided he could go for a run and be back by the time Kurt woke up.

He had a quick shower in his mother's bathroom so that the running water wouldn't disturb Kurt, and when he checked back on him, he was still sleeping. He smiled softly at the sight of him, amazed at the new feelings even looking at him stirred inside of him.

He went downstairs and was surprised to see his mother sitting at the kitchen counter, drinking coffee and looking off into the distance nostalgically.

'Mum, hi,' Blaine greeted her, sounding confused; 'I didn't think you'd be home until tonight at least.'

'You boys didn't clean up last night,' she replied softly, not looking at him, 'I washed up when I came back.'

Blaine remembered then that they really didn't wash up – they'd been too preoccupied upstairs. His expression of confusion only deepened, and his mother looked up at him, smiling weakly.

'Thanks, mum.' His voice came out equally as soft, and he knew that this was her way of beginning to rebuild the bridge between them.

'Did Kurt go home last night?' she asked, 'although judging from the mess when I got back, I daresay he's still here?'

'Yeah,' Blaine replied, scratching the back of his neck, 'he's sleeping upstairs. Could you not wake him if you go up there? It's still kind of early.'

'Where are you going?'

'I'm going for a run,' Blaine told her, 'and then I have training in Westerville in the afternoon so…'

There was a small silence and his mother cleared her throat.

'Blaine,' she started, voice trembling, 'I know we haven't talked about what happened but… baby, I'm _so_ sorry, alright? I love your father – I always will – and I love _you_. I'd never do anything to hurt you both.'

Blaine swallowed thickly, feeling tears begin to pool in his eyes. He nodded, knowing his mother was telling the truth. He walked over to her and hugged her tightly.

'I want you to be happy, mum,' he told her, 'I just want all of us to be ready, okay? I don't think we are. Not just yet.'

He could feel his mother nod against his shoulder and he released her, kissing the top of her head quickly.

'I'll be back in an hour and a half or so, maybe less,' he told her, going to the fridge to get himself a bottle of water.

His mother nodded and, unable to help himself, he gave her another hug before he left.

* * *

><p>When he came back, aching and sweaty, Kurt was still asleep. Granted, it was barely nine thirty, so Blaine took another shower and went downstairs to eat something. When an hour passed and Kurt still wasn't awake, he began to get bored and he went upstairs to wake him up.<p>

He was still sleeping peacefully, and Blaine almost couldn't do it. Instead, he picked Pierre up – the puppy had a tendency to sleep at the foot of the bed now – and heaved him up onto Kurt's chest.

Kurt stirred immediately and wrapped his arms around the dog, who gave a little squeak.

'Mm, Blaine,' Kurt murmured, eyes still shut. He pulled Pierre closer and nuzzled his fur, 'hair so soft.'

Blaine snorted from his place next to the bed as Kurt continued to cuddle the dog. Pierre squirmed in his arms and began to lick Kurt's face in earnest. Kurt giggled.

'Someone's affectionate this morning,' he commented, voice heavy with sleep. Pierre licked him over the mouth and Kurt wiped at it.

'Ew, Blaine, stop licking me.'

Blaine burst out laughing at this, burying his face in his hands.

'I'm not licking you, babe,' he informed him. Kurt heard that Blaine sounded further away that what he had thought he would sound like and when he opened his eyes, he found himself face to face with Pierre.

He shrieked, and Pierre barked and scampered off the bed. Blaine burst out laughing again.

'You are awful!' Kurt exclaimed, wiping his mouth furiously. Blaine merely laughed more, causing Kurt to shoot him a glare.

'Good morning to you too, love,' Blaine grinned, sitting on the edge of the bed, 'did you sleep well?'

Kurt continued to glare at him, but he nodded.

'What time is it?' he asked, looking around for the clock.

'It's almost eleven,' Blaine replied, 'you've been sleeping for a while, baby.'

Kurt's eyes widened.

'Eleven?' he repeated frantically, sitting up, 'why didn't you wake me sooner? What time did you wake up?'

'Um, around seven I think,' Blaine replied, scratching his head, 'I went for a run; I didn't want to wake you.'

'You should have woken me up,' Kurt pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, 'I feel horrible. I can't just sleep through the whole morning in _your_ house.'

Blaine laughed and kissed Kurt's forehead.

'My house is your house,' he told him lightly, 'you could have slept all day and no one would have minded.'

Kurt smiled warmly at him.

'I would kiss you but I taste like dog,' he laughed, getting out of bed, 'do you mind if I use your shower?'

Of course Blaine didn't mind, and he milled around the house absently while Kurt got ready for the day – something he knew could take a while. His training wasn't until four o'clock that afternoon so they had a bit of time to kill before he had to be anywhere.

It was almost twelve by the time Kurt came downstairs, looking flawless as ever. Blaine's mother had left for work at this point and they had the house to themselves once again.

'You know,' Kurt started, 'seeing as we have to go to Westerville today anyway, I was thinking we could go shopping?'

Blaine's heart dropped at the word and he immediately opened his mouth to protest, but the look Kurt shot him was one of pure pleading and he found it impossible to refuse.

'Please, Blaine?' he asked softly, lips forming a pout, his eyes widening, 'I haven't been to the Westerville mall before and I'd love to go.'

'If I have to go shopping with you, I want to at least have one of the Warblers with me,' Blaine argued, 'there is no way I'm going to suffer through this by myself.'

Kurt grinned at him and nodded, indicating that it was fine with him. Blaine quickly located his phone on the kitchen counter and texted Nick and Wes, knowing that they would be the ones who would most likely agree.

Their text came back only minutes later, confirming that they would love to come and hang out for the day and that they would meet them at the Westerville mall. Kurt's eyes lit up.

'You should go get your stuff ready for tonight then, Blaine!' he ordered, 'and that means I'll have to stay for your training, too!'

Blaine sighed heavily and nodded, heading upstairs to pack his things for training. Kurt squealed happily and clapped his hands. Blaine didn't understand how someone could get so excited about shopping – he hated shopping and tried to avoid it at all costs. Every so often his mother would drag him – and Blaine would drag Martin along too – and take him to the mall to buy clothes. He would come home empty handed most of the times, with sore feet and in a very bad mood. His mother wouldn't be talking to him because he would have complained so much and Martin would hate both of them for even considering taking him along.

Shopping never went well for Blaine.

But apparently it was Kurt's absolute favorite pastime in the world, and when they sat in the car at around twelve, he began to talk quickly and excitedly about his plans for the day.

'Don't get too excited,' Blaine warned, pulling out of the driveway, 'the Westerville mall isn't all that thrilling.'

But apparently it was.

When they arrived and pulled up in the parking lot, Kurt squealed again.

'This is so much bigger than the mall in Lima!' he told Blaine excitedly, already unbuckling his seatbelt, 'oh my goodness, you guys probably have a much bigger variety of stores and there could be so many sales on, especially after Christmas, oh my goodness, this is _so_ exciting!'

Blaine rolled his eyes as he turned the car's engine off and he got out of the car, where Kurt had already started to walk towards the shopping center.

His phone vibrated then and he pulled it out of his pocket to check his texts.

_We're in the food court! – Nick_

Blaine told Kurt where they were and insisted that they go there right away. Kurt didn't seem to mind; he grabbed Blaine's hand – something he was a bit apprehensive about, Westerville wasn't exactly the most gay-friendly place in the world – and allowed Blaine to lead them to the food court.

On their way there – the food court was on the second floor – Kurt would gasp and point out various shops to Blaine, who would smile and nod at his boyfriend, though it was obvious that he was already bored. When they reached the food court, they spotted Nick and Wes sitting at one of the tables. They waved them over excitedly and Blaine gave them both a hug.

'It's wonderful to see you both!' he told them happily, relieved to have some sanity on their shopping trip, 'are you two ready to shop til we drop?'

He rolled his eyes as he spoke and Nick and Wes grinned.

'Always up for some shopping, aren't we Wes?' Nick winked at his friend, who smirked.

'Of course, shopping is the greatest thing ever!'

Kurt mistook their sarcasm for enthusiasm and immediately rounded on Blaine.

'See, they're boys and they like shopping!' he told him, and Blaine almost laughed, 'I don't see why you don't like it – it's so much fun. It'll be nice to have someone who appreciates it as much as I do.'

At this, Nick and Wes burst out laughing. Kurt turned to them, confused, and they grinned at him.

'I'm terribly sorry, Kurt,' Nick apologized, still chuckling, 'we hate shopping with a fiery, burning passion.'

'You just missed the sarcasm,' Wes explained, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing. Kurt looked dejected and tightened his hold on Blaine's hand. Blaine glanced at their joined hands and winced. Nick seemed to notice and he shot him a reassuring glance.

'Don't even worry about holding hands with Kurt,' he told him softly. Kurt was engaged in conversation with Wes now and he didn't pay attention, 'you have our support – and you'll probably kill anyone who tries to say anything, anyway.'

Blaine smiled at him, grateful for the reassurance. He gripped Kurt's hand tightly and they set off.

Kurt, he soon realized, was exactly like his mother when it came to shopping.

He spent too much time in the one store and insisted on trying on _everything_ he found, whether he was interested in buying it or not. Of course, Blaine could never object to seeing his boyfriend try on pair after pair of tight jeans, but it was rather boring to just sit there and observe; he was far too restless.

Nick and Wes seemed to be enjoying themselves, however. They would actually offer constructive criticism and praise Kurt when he tried on something that looked good. After a while of this, Blaine turned to them both incredulously.

'I thought you two hated shopping.' he hissed, not wanting Kurt to hear them from behind his changing room door.

'I'm gay,' Nick replied easily, shrugging.

'And I'm in a borderline homosexual bromance,' Wes added, grinning at Blaine. Blaine rolled his eyes at them and smiled as Kurt came out of the changing rooms and twirled around in a pair of blue skinny jeans and a dark grey button-up shirt. He looked at them expectantly.

'You look great, babe,' Blaine told him automatically, unable to hide his boredom. Kurt rolled his eyes at him and Nick and Wes looked at him critically.

'I don't like the jeans,' Wes announced after a few moments, and Kurt nodded slowly, 'I mean, they're great jeans – but not with that shirt. The color scheme is a little off balance.'

'The shirt also makes you look a little bit…' Nick paused and searched for the correct word, 'pasty. It dulls your eyes and makes you look a little ashen.'

'When you two are done insulting my boyfriend…'

'No, Blaine, shush,' Kurt admonished quickly, 'they're so right. This doesn't go together at all.'

He looked over his shoulder at his reflection in the changing room mirror and frowned as he appraised himself.

'I don't know what I was thinking,' he muttered before turning to Nick and Wes, 'where would I be without you two?'

'Committing some sort of hideous crime against fashion?' Nick offered, though he was grinning. Kurt smiled at them both before heading back into the changing rooms.

'Great, he hates me now,' Blaine groaned, running his hand through his hair. Wes laughed at him.

'Don't be afraid to criticize him,' he told him helpfully, 'they love that shit, man.'

When Kurt came out of the changing room again, Blaine honestly thought he looked great. He was wearing white jeans which could have been painted on, and a silky-looking pale green shirt. He wore a little white bow tie and Blaine was reminded of the time he went to dinner at his house.

But he remembered that he needed to be critical, and not being able to find something he didn't like about the outfit, he took a blind stab.

'What do you guys think?' Kurt asked, looking genuinely pleased at his choice of outfit. Blaine frowned.

'I don't like it,' he announced, crossing his arms over his chest. Wes and Nick shared an amused look and then looked at Kurt, waiting to see his reaction. His face fell flat.

'Why's that, Blaine?' he asked, resting his hands on his hips. They could hear the bite in his tone and he suddenly felt rather intimidated.

'Um…'

He couldn't really think of anything, so he trailed off and shrugged helplessly. Kurt sighed in exasperation.

'You are _so _insensitive sometimes, Blaine,' he shot, turning and heading into the changing room, shutting the door behind him with a little too much force. Blaine groaned again and buried his head in his hands as Nick and Wes burst out laughing.

'You are so clueless,' Nick smiled, clapping him on the shoulder, 'it's okay, Kurt will get over it.'

Kurt left the change room wearing the clothes he had come to the shops with and he just walked straight past Blaine to the cashier. Blaine noticed he left the jeans and the shirt in the changing room, though, and he bit his lip. Wes and Nick went after Kurt, who paid and simply left the store, so Blaine quickly grabbed the jeans and shirt from the changing room and took it up to the counter.

He was surprised at how much a pair of jeans and a shirt could actually set him back, but money wasn't really an issue for him – and besides, he wanted to show Kurt that he hadn't actually hated the outfit.

_Stupid Wes,_ he thought, exiting the shop and looking around for Kurt and the boys.

He found them outside another shop; whether they were waiting for him or not, he didn't know. Kurt still didn't look at him though, and didn't notice the bag he held in his hand. Blaine sighed and lifted Kurt's chin so that he was looking at him.

'Kurt,' he started, 'I'm sorry for insulting you. Wes told me to.'

'Hey!'

'You did!' Blaine reminded him, turning to glare at his friend, 'shut up, we're having a moment.'

Wes rolled his eyes at him and turned to engage Nick in conversation and left Blaine and Kurt alone.

Kurt looked at him then, his eyes sad, 'you didn't really hate my outfit?'

'Of course not,' Blaine assured him softly, 'you look amazing in anything, I promise you. Wes told me I was meant to be critical and I just wanted you to think I wasn't boring or fashion-deprived or something. I couldn't think of anything I didn't like about the outfit, though, so I couldn't justify anything I tried to say. I'm sorry, baby.'

Kurt smiled at that, and looked around to see if anyone was watching before kissing him quickly on the lips.

'Thank you. But I really liked that outfit…'

His expression fell then and Blaine suddenly remembered the bag in his hand. He grinned.

'Did you think I would just not allow you to buy such a wonderful outfit?' he asked, holding the bag up. Kurt's eyes lit up and he grinned.

'You bought it for me?'

'Of course I did!' Blaine smiled and held the bag out to him, 'all yours, sweetheart. I expect you to wear it next time I take you somewhere special.'

Kurt smiled and took the bag eagerly, pressing another lingering kiss to Blaine's lips. Then he took his hand and led him into the next shop.

Blaine tried to be more attentive after that, but after a while he was bored again. It was around three o'clock by this point and even though he'd only been shopping for a few hours, it was more than enough for him.

He looked around the shop as he waited for Kurt to change for what was possibly the hundredth time before his eyes fell on someone vaguely familiar and completely unexpected. They were browsing through clothes on a rack and Blaine could only see the side of their face but he was struck with a pang of recognition.

He knew that face – he'd seen it somewhere and the name sat uncomfortably on the tip of his tongue. Then the figure looked up and looked in his general direction and he felt his heart drop.

It was Alexei Rukovskaya.

He didn't know he was from Westerville – he didn't know much about the boy, now that he thought about it. But he watched the boy as browsed through racks of clothing, watched how he moved with agility and even simple movements and steps radiated confidence and power. Blaine swallowed thickly – this was the boy he was going to be fighting.

His heart picked up speed and he had to admit; Alexei didn't look nearly as intimidating in his videos as in person. His face was twisted in what seemed to be a permanent dark scowl, his eyes a shade of the most chilling blue Blaine had ever seen. He was taller than Blaine was, and his shoulders were broader and Blaine couldn't help but wonder how on earth he managed to be a featherweight. His hair – much like Martin's – was shaved and dark, making him look more like a predator than a teenage boy. Blaine wondered what on earth a boy like him was doing in such a designer shop until he saw a girl approach him from the woman's section of the store, chattering away in rapid Russian. She was a very pretty girl; the same blue eyes and dark hair, only it hung long and curly down her back. He figured it was his sister and his stomach twisted nervously – _that _was his competition. That absolute machine of a boy was who he was fighting.

Kurt had long since come out of the changing room and was talking to Wes and Nick, not aware of how distracted Blaine was. When he tried to say something to Blaine, it fell on deaf ears. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Alexei, who hadn't yet noticed him.

'What are you staring at, man?' he heard Wes asked, confused. He tore his gaze away from Alexei for a moment and looked back at them.

'That's him.' he told them quietly, 'that's Alexei Rukovskaya – the champion.'

As if on cue, Kurt, Wes and Nick all looked over at the Russian boy, who was still browsing obliviously. The girl, however, noticed and spoke to Alexei in low Russian. He looked up and over at the boys slowly and he frowned at them for a moment before his eyes fell to Blaine and their gazes locked.  
>And then his eyes lit up in recognition.<p>

He smiled slowly then, and it somehow managed to make him look even more frightening. He said something to his sister – Blaine couldn't hear it, nor would he be able to understand it – but Alexei merely went back to his browsing, the same sinister smile still in place.

'Do you want to go, Blaine?' Kurt asked softly. Blaine shook his head immediately. If he left now, Alexei would assume he was scared of him; and he wasn't.

Not really, anyway.

'He looks kind of… intimidating.' Nick commented, voicing what everyone was thinking, 'are you going to pay for those, Kurt?'

'Yeah, I need to go to training soon anyway,' Blaine added. He glanced at Alexei, who wasn't looking at him, 'we should probably start going soon.'

Kurt nodded and they went to the cashier together to pay for Kurt's clothes. They had barely left the shop when they heard a very heavily accented voice call out behind him.

'Blaine Anderson.'

The voice spoke slowly, pronouncing each word carefully. Blaine felt a chill run through him and he turned slowly, seeing Alexei standing a mere few feet away from him.

'Alexei Rukovskaya,' he nodded curtly, 'fancy meeting you here, of all places.'

'My parents have booked hotel where we are staying until fight,' Alexei replied. Blaine noticed his English wasn't really the best – he wouldn't imagine it was, he was Russian.

'That's… interesting.'

Alexei smirked at that and then his eyes fell on the boys next to Blaine.

'Are they boyfriends of yours?' he asked in amusement, the attack in his voice obvious. Blaine felt heat begin to coil in him – he wouldn't dare pick a fight in the middle of the shop, would he?

'Nope, only me,' Kurt told him, stepping forward and taking Blaine's hand. Alexei looked disgusted.

'In my country,' he informed them, 'gays are taken in streets and beaten.'

Blaine's eyes narrowed as Alexei continued.

'I look forward to beating you, too.'

Blaine resisted the urge to kick him, and Kurt squeezed his hand reassuringly. He held Alexei's gaze levelly, trying not to show any of his anger.

'I look forward to making sure you never fight again,' Blaine told him, the malice in his voice evident.

Alexei laughed at that, a deep, ridiculing sound.

'Never fight?' he repeated, eyes twinkling, 'I am champion –' he pointed to himself, ' while you; you are nothing.'

Blaine felt his stomach turn angrily again and he took a step forward without even realizing it. Alexei did, and he stepped forward too, and now there was not much distance separating the two.

'You can talk now, Rukovskaya, but I can guarantee I'll shut you up in the cage.'

'I look forward to it,' Alexei shot, his eyes narrowing, 'I will break you, Anderson. And after that, I will break your little gay, too.'

'Don't even think about bringing Kurt into this,' Blaine snarled, and now it was taking all of his resistance to not jump on Alexei that very second, 'you and I may have something to settle, but leave him the fuck out of it.'

'It is disgusting.' Alexei spat, 'it makes me sick to look at such things. Such a thing must be punished.'

'It's not disgusting,' Nick spoke up suddenly, sounding offhand, 'boys offer so much more than girls do, in so many ways.'

Alexei glared at him, 'another gay? This is _sick_. You are committing great sin by doing this.'

'See if we care,' Nick challenged, though he made no move to step up and fight Alexei. Alexei growled under his breath.

'Why don't you fuck off, Rukovskaya? I'll see you in the cage.'

'I hope you make necessary funeral arrangements beforehand. You will not be leaving cage alive. Nor will your little gays here.'

His tone had such promise and malice in it that Blaine could feel Kurt tighten his grip on Blaine's hand nervously.

'I swear to god if you touch him,' Blaine threatened, 'I'll end you. That's a fucking promise.'

'Such harsh words from boy who has too much dick in throat.' Alexei taunted, the jeer somehow even more offensive in his broken English – the fact that such a foreign boy would take the time to learn insults which were selective to gay people was sickening. Blaine felt something snap inside him and he released Kurt's hand and lunged at Alexei.

'Blaine, no!' Kurt shouted, moving to pull him back. But Blaine and Alexei were already on the floor, Blaine on top of Alexei as their fists flew, pounding into whatever they could reach. They were attracting quite a bit of attention, people crowding around and shouting at them to stop – some shouting at them to keep going – but they paid no attention to their surroundings, hitting each other with a fierce hatred.

Nick and Wes rushed forward then and grabbed Blaine by the back of the shirt and after a brief struggle, hauled Blaine off of Alexei. Blaine strained against them and now unrestricted, Alexei stood quickly and punched Blaine clear in the eye. Blaine retaliated quickly, managing to kick Alexei right under the chin. He stumbled backwards where one of the larger men in the crowd quickly hooked his arms around his back and dragged him away from Blaine.

'I will kill you!' Alexei shouted, his nose bleeding and the beginning of a bruise blossoming on his chin. He looked rather shaken up, not expecting Blaine to be able to fight back so well. Blaine growled and struggled harder against Wes and Nick, who were barely holding him back now.

'Alexei!'

A female voice was heard, her accent Russian. She pushed through the crowd and marched up to her brother and began yelling at him in rapid Russian.

Alexei stopped struggling against the man and looked rather sheepish as the pretty girl continued to reprimand him. The crowd around them began to dissipate and the girl glared at Alexei, saying something with a tone of finality and pointing in the opposite direction. He shot Blaine a final lethal glare and shrugged the man off him.

'I will see you in cage,' he spat, before walking off in the direction the girl had pointed in. She turned to them and brushed her hair out of her face and sighed.

'I must apologize,' she told them, her accent heavy, 'my brother, he is… very bad tempered.'

'It's not your fault,' Blaine assured her, a spectacular bruise forming around his eye, 'he's a bit of a wanker.'

She looked confused, 'I do not understand. But I am sorry; he will be sorry when I tell father what he did.'

'Oh, don't even worry about that,' Blaine smiled – she seemed nice, 'you don't have to tell your parents; I think I got him pretty good anyway.'

'You are good fighter,' she told him solemnly, 'perhaps better than Alexei. My name is Valentina, I am twin sister of Alexei.'

'You two look alike,' Kurt commented. Wes and Nick let go of Blaine then and he rolled his shoulder backwards, feeling the ache in his muscles.

'We may be alike in looks,' she replied, 'but we are not of character. He is angry boy; very angry. I am not angry.'

'Better to be happy, I guess,' Nick shrugged, 'why were you yelling at him?'

'I yell at him because he is wrong,' she turned to look at Nick, Blaine and Kurt now, looking serious, 'if you are gay, there is no wrong in that. You love who you love, no? It is not something which is sick – love is something of beauty.'

She reached forward and took Kurt's hand in one of hers and Blaine's in the other, and then she joined them on their behalf.

'Never stop fighting for love,' she told them, and Kurt and Blaine found themselves nodding, 'I must go now – but good luck with fight, Blaine. I – I hope you win. Knock sense into brother.'

She smiled at them widely then and left. There was a small silence, one which Wes broke.

'Wow,' he let out a low whistle, 'she was _hot_.'

Kurt snorted and rolled his eyes, 'she's absolutely lovely. I wonder how she turned out so nice and Alexei turned out like… _that._'

Blaine shrugged. Now that the adrenaline was leaving him, the pain from his wounds were catching up to him. He pulled out his phone and used the black, reflective screen to check out the damage to his eye. It was swollen and turning darker and darker and he cursed under his breath.

'What an asshole.' he muttered, lifting his fingers to touch the bruise gingerly, 'some people, I swear…'

'Well, you at least looked like you were fighting better than him.' Wes commented, sounding hopeful, 'I mean, it wasn't as if he was caught off guard or anything.'

'_And_,' Kurt added, smiling proudly, 'you were on the _ground_. That's meant to be his turf, isn't it?'

'Oh, and he has more injuries than you. He had the chin and the nose and he had this nice bruise on his cheek, too…' Nick told him, sounding excited, 'look, Blaine, I honestly think you can win this.'

Blaine mulled it over and he started to feel more confident – he had genuinely won that scuffle with Alexei. He had. The only reason his eye was swollen now was because he had got him while he couldn't fight back. He smirked.

Alexei Rukovskaya was going down.

The title was going to be his, at whatever cost.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: This is just a short follow up chapter to the mall incident, I figured it couldn't have just been left unexplained to Martin; that would have been a bit inconsistent so here's just a short little thing about the aftermath.  
>Also, I'm very pleased; this is the 19th chapter and I have never stuck with a story this long before, it's become very dear to me and I'd like to thank you all so very much for the overwhelming amount of feedback and support this story has received. I love you all.<strong>

* * *

><p>'Whoa, Blaine, what happened to your eye?'<p>

They had entered the gym after leaving the mall and Blaine shrugged, not answering, heading towards the changing rooms. He wasn't really in the mood to talk; after the excitement of his fight with Alexei had worn off, he'd felt annoyed, insulted and upset. Martin stared after him, confused, not noticing that Kurt was still standing there.

'I don't think we've met properly,' he started, causing Martin to jump slightly and turn back around. Kurt was eyeing him levelly, 'I'm Kurt Hummel, Blaine's boyfriend.'

Martin noticed the faint disapproval in Kurt's eyes – he knew he was remembering the incident with Blaine's mother and felt decidedly sheepish. He'd only seen the boy in passing at the hospital and then hadn't made much of a good impression the next time he saw him. This boy was obviously important to Blaine and he wanted them to get along well, so he stuck out his hand.

'I'm Martin Ortiz,' he replied as Kurt grasped his hand and shook it for a moment, 'Blaine's trainer.'

There was a silence then, and Martin somehow knew that Kurt didn't like him very much – granted, he'd been the reason Blaine had broken down in tears mere days before and he couldn't blame Kurt for feeling overprotective of his boyfriend.

'So um,' Martin began, feeling uncomfortable, 'what happened to Blaine's eye?'

Kurt bit his lip and stared in the direction of the changing rooms for a few moments before sighing and turning back to Martin.

'We were shopping in Westerville,' he explained, sounding troubled, 'and we ran into that Russian guy. Alexei, was it? Anyway, he and Blaine had a… confrontation… of sorts. He insulted Blaine's sexuality – mine and Nick's, too – and threatened both our lives. Blaine did his best to control his temper, he was really trying, but he snapped at one of the comments Alexei made and they had this fight in the middle of the mall. Then Nick and Wes pulled Blaine off of Alexei, who then used this as an opportunity to punch Blaine in the face – that's the eye, by the way – and then Blaine kicked him in the face and then some big guy from the crowd came along and restrained Alexei and then his sister yelled at him and made him leave and then she apologized to us.'

He took a deep breath then and a worried expression set upon his features. He didn't like Blaine being hurt, but that was the first time he'd seen Blaine fight properly and he had to admit; he was very impressed. Alexei – he seemed strong, too, but not better than Blaine. But then again, Blaine had been injured in the fight – of course, he would heal up before his title fight but what if Alexei had hit him harder and something had happened to damage his vision?

He'd never really considered exactly how dangerous fighting could be – he knew that there were bruises and sometimes blood as a result, but he'd never thought of the long term damage. What if Blaine was hit so hard he went into a coma? Or he broke a bone severely or even lost his hearing or eyesight because of a fight?

The worried him to no end. Of course, he couldn't ask Blaine to just give up fighting altogether – that would be incredibly selfish of him – but he did want Blaine to look out for himself. He had a feeling the title fight was going to be very personal.

He realized that he'd tuned Martin out by losing himself in his thoughts, and tuned back in to hear Martin ranting and raving about Alexei.

'How _dare _he even think about doing such a thing?' he wondered aloud, his tone biting, 'I don't understand some people, honestly, they'll do _anything _to get a rise out of someone! That shouldn't even be allowed – of course Blaine is going to be angry when he fights him now! He's a shit fighter when he's angry – no offense to him or anything – but he doesn't think straight and he's sloppy with his hits and his mind is all clouded and _ugh,_ this should _not _be allowed!'

'He'll only be madder when he sees how mad you are,' Kurt reasoned coolly, crossing his arms over his chest. He agreed with Martin completely, of course, but Blaine needed Martin to be collected right now; if Martin were out of control, Blaine would think it was okay to lose his temper even more, too.

At that moment, Blaine exited the changing rooms and made his way over to him, swollen eye standing out sharply. Martin winced at the sight of it.

'Kurt filled me in,' he told him, and Blaine shot him an appreciative smile, glad he didn't have to explain, 'did you put anything on that eye of yours? I could get you an ice pack.'

Blaine nodded; he needed some of the swelling to go down – as of right now, he had limited vision in his right eye and that would severely affect his training sessions. He needed his vision to be perfect so that he could fight to the best of his ability.

Martin went off then, presumably to find Blaine his ice pack, and Blaine turned to Kurt and took his hand in his. He was breathing deeply and Kurt knew he was trying to calm himself down after the day's events. Kurt gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and smiled at him.

'Are you feeling okay?' he asked gently. Blaine shrugged.

'I feel a little offended, to be honest,' he replied, sounding bitter, 'honestly, I'm just sick of the shit I get for being gay – it's not that big of a deal. Like, come on, you'd expect people to be a little more open minded by now. But I'm fine – how are _you_?'

Kurt knew he was referring to the incident where Alexei had threatened him – he had felt beyond intimidated at that point; Alexei looked as though he meant business. He bit his lip.

'I'm… fine,' he told him, and it was an honest reply, 'I'm a bit shaken up and more than a little scared of him, but I'm fine.'

Blaine looked at him, a determined gleam in his eye.

'I will never let any harm come to you,' he assured him solemnly, 'no matter what the cost. I'll protect you with my life, always.'

Kurt felt a surge of emotion at that, and he stepped forward and closed the distance between them, kissing Blaine gently on the lips.

'I love you,' he told him, and he meant it. Blaine's face split into a heartwarming smile at his words.

'I love you, too.'

It was something Kurt thought he would never grow tired of hearing – the fact that Blaine loved him back was probably the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Martin reappeared with an icepack wrapped in a tea towel. He held it out to Blaine, who took it and held it to his eye, hissing softly at the sting it produced.

'So, Blaine,' Martin started, taking a seat on the floor. Kurt raised his eyebrows – it seemed a little odd to just sit on the floor in the middle of the gym to him. Blaine seemed to be used to this, however, because he sunk to the floor next to Martin. Not wanting to stand there awkwardly, Kurt also sat down, and they formed a small circle.

Blaine made a questioning noise, staring at Martin through his uncovered eye, waiting for him to continue.

'As much as I disapprove of you fighting outside of the ring – I know you attacked him first, so don't even try to deny it – how did it go?' Martin asked, seeming genuinely curious, 'did you get a feel for any of his strategies, his moves? Anything?'

Blaine laughed humorously, 'his strategy seemed to be to beat me to death. I don't know, the fight didn't last that long. It was more of a brawl, now that I think about it.'

'Blaine won,' Kurt spoke up, and Martin turned to him in interest, 'I mean, yeah, like he said, it didn't last that long, but he did win.'

Martin turned to look at Blaine then, who ducked his head with a sort of sheepish pride.

'Well, I knocked him to the ground and I stayed on top for the duration of the fight,' he told Martin, who seemed suddenly delighted, 'and then when he hit me – I was being held back at this point, couldn't use my arms – I landed this amazing kick right to his chin and he almost fell over. He had a blood nose and he looked more messed up than I do, so yeah. I – I think I won that fight.'

Martin grinned at that and clapped Blaine on the shoulder.

'I knew it!' he exclaimed, seeming genuinely happy, 'I knew you could beat him. I mean, sure, he's good on the ground but apparently you're getting better, too. Of course, he would have absolutely _no_ chance against you on your feet. You've improved so much over the past few months, Blaine. I don't think I've ever been this proud of you.'

Blaine flushed lightly at the compliment and he thanked Martin sincerely. Kurt watched the exchange with a small, fond smile. Despite the incident from a few days ago, it was obvious how much Martin and Blaine cared for each other – they were like brothers; or maybe even father and son. It made him a little sad to know that Blaine had to replace his real father with his best friend, but it made him glad all the same that Blaine wasn't alone.

'I don't think you should train today, it's hardly a good idea with the condition you're in,' Martin advised, pulling Blaine's hand away from his eye and looking at it critically, 'you should let this heal up before we doing anything else.'

'But I want to train,' Blaine whined, 'I feel like shit if I don't. I can just work on the bag or something; I don't really need much vision for that.'

Martin raised his eyebrows at him.

'Don't play dumb, Blaine,' he scolded, 'your depth perception will be all fucked up with only one eye.'

Blaine pouted and Kurt wondered for a moment how anyone could possibly be disappointed about not being able to train.

'What about the treadmill? Or the bike?'

'You'll be thrown off balance and I don't want you injuring yourself even more. No training for you today.'

Blaine pouted and sighed heavily.

'Fine, but as soon as this swelling goes down, I'm going to come back here and kill myself in the gym.'

'I have no objections to that,' Martin grinned, getting to his feet, 'come on, you two should be getting home.'

He offered a hand to each of them and pulled them to their feet with ease.

'Keep that on your eye,' he ordered, 'and let Kurt drive home, I'm sure you can direct him or whatever, it's pretty straightforward.'

Blaine looked incredibly put out at being sent home, but they bid goodbye to Martin nevertheless and went to Blaine's car. Kurt had to admit that his opinion of Martin had changed in the short amount of time he'd seen him – it was obvious that he really cared for Blaine. Blaine tossed him his keys and they slid into the car. Kurt felt a little nervous driving Blaine's car – it was obviously expensive and he didn't want to damage it in any way. His car was his baby and he knew that he wouldn't let anyone drive it – except Blaine, maybe – without freaking out.

Kurt sang to Blaine on their way back home, seeing that Blaine wasn't in a very good mood. He sat sullenly, hand holding the ice pack to his eye, glaring out the window. He wanted to be able to train – he hated Alexei for injuring him this seriously. If anything, it would only set him back more and needed all the training he could get.

After all, the fight was only a month and a half away now – which honestly wasn't that far at all. Blaine thought about how quickly the months had flown by since he'd moved to Lima; he never thought that his life could change so drastically in such a short amount of time.

* * *

><p>'Do you want me to drop you off home?' Kurt asked as they entered Lima, 'I mean, I don't want you to drive home with that eye and it's not much of a walk, anyway.'<p>

Blaine bit his lip – it was getting dark and he didn't want Kurt to walk home by himself at this time of the night.

'Why don't we leave my car at my place and I walk you home?' Blaine suggested. He wanted a little time with Kurt after what had happened that day. He needed some comfort.

Kurt smiled at him, seeming to catch onto his train of thought, and they arrived at Blaine's house a few minutes later. They locked the car and Blaine walked over to Kurt and took his hand immediately, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Kurt squeezed his hand and they set off in the direction of Kurt's house in a comfortable silence.

'You know,' Kurt started after a while, 'I'm very proud of the way you handled yourself in the shop.'

Blaine snorted, 'yeah, right. I attacked Alexei.'

'No,' Kurt smiled at him, 'you were trying not to. I could tell. A month ago you would probably just kick his ass straight away but this time… you really tried.'

'That's because I have you now,' Blaine replied simply, smiling lightly, 'and you calm me down in a way no one – not even I – possibly can.'

That earned a proper smile from Kurt, and another kiss on the cheek. Blaine stopped walking then, and Kurt turned to him, confused.

'Kurt,' Blaine started, moving his hand to cup Kurt's cheek, 'I'm sorry about making you wait for me.'

'It's okay, Blaine,' Kurt smiled, 'you had to wait for me too, remember?'

'But that was different – I knew you liked me,' Blaine reasoned, 'and you didn't know I loved you.'

'It's fine, we have a long, long time to make up for it.'

Blaine sighed softly, 'look, Kurt. I just never want you to doubt the way I feel for you, okay?'

Kurt's expression softened.

'I won't, Blaine,' he assured him, 'and I don't want you to doubt the way I feel, either.'

At this, Blaine ducked his head.

'God, I love you so much,' he murmured, shaking his head. Kurt lifted his chin gently and, wrapping his around his neck, pressed their lips together in a soft kiss.

'I love you,' he breathed against Blaine's lips. Blaine kissed him again and Kurt felt the familiar lightheaded sensation kissing Blaine always brought on. They stood there for a few more moments, lost in each other, before pulling away and continuing their walk to Kurt's house.

They arrived far too soon for either of their liking and they spent a good five minutes saying goodbye, neither of them wanting to part with the other.

'I feel as if I'm leaving part of me behind every time we say goodbye,' Kurt confessed, wrapping his arms around Blaine. Blaine returned the hug tightly.

'You take a part of me with you when you leave,' he replied softly, 'you always carry a part of me with you. It's never goodbye, not really.'

Kurt smiled at him and kissed him lightly once more before going inside, leaving Blaine on his own on the doorstep. He bit his lip before heading back the way they'd come, hands shoved deep into his pockets, whistling to himself.

His mind drifted to many different places – to Kurt, to his mother and Martin, to Alexei and their confrontation, to his big fight which was coming up.

And even though there was so much going on in his life, he'd never felt more at peace with himself and his surroundings. A few months ago he'd been completely lost; but he'd grown since then, he could feel it.

He was handling himself better and he was becoming more mature with every passing day. His father's death, while still incredibly painful, was becoming easier to accept and handle – he knew that his father, while not there physically, would always be with him in some form. He was focused and he was determined – he would win the fight for Martin and his mother and Kurt and his father. He would make everyone he cared about proud at no matter what cost.

Because the people in his life, they gave him something worth fighting for. He'd been lost but they reigned him in and taught him to find himself again, taught him strength and discipline, and above all else, how to love and be loved. And that was something Blaine had to repay in whatever way possible – and he figured that by winning the fight, he could show them that everything they had given and taught him had not been in vain.


	20. Chapter 20

It was nearing four in the morning and Blaine found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sleep at all. He'd spent the day feeling strange; empty almost, not answering calls or texts or talking to anyone, really. He hadn't bothered showing up to training, either, something he had been looking forward after the swelling on his eye had subsided a little in the past few days.

No matter how surrounded he was by people; his mother, Martin, Kurt – he still felt so very alone. He considered himself a pretty optimistic person most of the times, but every so often he would land himself in a funk and was unable to get out of it no matter how hard he tried.

After he had decided to go to sleep, he would fall into fitful naps, his dreams plagued with flashbacks of the previous summer and the car accident. He felt edgy and panicky as a result and didn't want to go back to sleep – not that he could have if he tried. He sighed and sat up in his bed, looking around in the darkness. He could vaguely make out Pierre's outline at the foot of his bed, sleeping peacefully.

He kicked the covers off of himself and got out of bed, trying to decide how he was going to spend his morning if he wasn't going to sleep. He spotted his guitar and, with a sudden urge to play, made his way over to it slowly, not wanting to trip over something and wake up his mother, whose room was a few doors down the hallway. He picked up his guitar and headed to the sliding door on the opposite wall that led to the small balcony which jutted from his room.

He sat down and rested the guitar in his lap, observing the night before him. The sky was inky, the moon hung full and gleaming like a pearl, stars scattered like jewels as far as he could see. The town was quiet; there was no wind but a faint chill in the air. Blaine immediately felt a sense of peace wash over him; he loved the night sky – the vastness made him and his problems seem far smaller than what they really were, and it brought a small sense of comfort to him.

He ran his fingers over the smooth wood of the guitar. His father had bought him this guitar after he started kickboxing lessons; he'd bought numerous others in his lifetime, but he always came back to this one when he was feeling lonely or sad.

He began to pluck at the strings, fingers pressing into frets at random, the melody sweet and high. He really lost himself when he played; he forgot about fighting and his problems and his insecurities. It relieved him of stress like almost nothing else could.

Eventually his fingers began to settle into a rhythm of a song he's learned recently and he stared out over the town, at the twinkling stars and the light of the streetlamps and began to sing.

_I can change the world,  
>With my own two hands,<br>Make it a better place,  
>With my own two hands,<em>

His eyes began to water, the song had made him emotional the instant he'd heard it – why, he had no idea – but he kept on playing anyway, singing softly.

He heard a tap on the glass behind him and saw that Pierre was staring at him, wanting to be let out on the balcony. Blaine reached behind him and slid the door open as best he could and the dog hopped up onto the seat opposite him. Blaine found himself smiling at him for a moment before he resumed his playing.

_I can reach out to you,  
>With my own two hands<br>With my own, with my own  
>Two hands,<em>

He could feel his stress begin to dissipate as the song progressed and by the time he picked up another song, and then a third, he was feeling completely relaxed, the nightmares from earlier leaving his mind, leaving him with a new sense of clarity.

He realised that he hadn't spoken to Kurt all day – he'd made a number of attempts to call and text him and he'd blatantly ignored each try. He could have lied and said his phone was off the whole day, or he didn't have it with him, but somehow he knew that Kurt wouldn't buy the excuse. He leaned his guitar against the railing and slipped back inside to get his phone – it was well past four now, but he figured that if he were to make it up to Kurt, there was no time like the present.

He scrolled through his inbox and read through every text Kurt had sent him, guilt stabbing into him as he read. Kurt would probably think that Blaine was mad at him for some reason – which he wasn't, of course not – but he didn't want Kurt to feel as if he had wronged him in any way so he quickly hit the call button and Kurt's name was brought up on the screen.

He answered on the sixth ring, sounding beyond sleepy. Suddenly Blaine felt a little guilty for waking him.

'_Blaine? What – what is it?' _he asked, the sleep heavy on his voice, '_are you okay?'_

'I'm fine, Kurt.'

'_Why didn't you answer my calls? Or my texts? Have I done something wrong? Are – are we okay?'_

Blaine felt a painful tug at his heart at how hurt Kurt sounded.

'We're fine, Kurt,' he assured him, 'more than fine. Just – shh, just listen.'

He put the phone on speaker and put it on the little table which sat on the balcony. He took up his guitar and ran his fingers over the frets, finding his place.

He began to play the intro, fingers moving smoothly as the music echoed beautifully through the silent night.

_Ooh, ooh, ooh,  
>Love of mine,<br>Won't you lay by my side  
>And rest your weary eyes,<br>Before we're out of time,_

He could hear Kurt intake sharply on the other end of the phone and wondered if he was beginning to feel as emotional as he was feeling. He could feel the tears pooling in his eyes and it hit him then just how much he missed Kurt – and he suddenly understood how the artist was feeling when he wrote the song; he didn't want to be away from the one he loved, and even though Blaine had seen Kurt the day before, if only briefly – they hadn't had many classes together – he could feel how painful it was to be away from him even for a short while.

_Bring me your love,  
>Tonight,<br>Bring me your love,  
>Tonight<em>

_Lost at sea,  
>My heart beat was growing weak,<br>Hoping you'd hear my plea,  
>And come save my life,<em>

He heard a sob – it couldn't have been him, he was still managing to sing, though he felt a tightness in his throat. It had to have been Kurt; he began to cry harder and somehow Blaine knew he was feeling the way he was, that he was missing Blaine as much as Blaine missed him. Hearing Kurt cry brought more tears to his own eyes, but he pressed on with the song, determined to finish it for Kurt.

_As the storm grew fierce,  
>An angel was certainly near,<br>I knew there was nothing to fear._

_Bring me your love, tonight._  
><em>Bring me your love, tonight.<em>  
><em>No, I am not where I belong,<em>  
><em>Bring me your love, tonight.<em>

The final verse was difficult for him to sing – he could barely keep his voice from shaking. After the song finished, there was a silence, broken only by the sounds of Kurt's tears. Blaine could feel his own begin to fall down his face and he wiped at them hastily.

'Kurt? Are you okay?'

'_I just miss you so much. It's only been a – a day, but I just want you here with me.'_

'I know, baby. But I'll see you tomorrow at school.'

There was another silence and Blaine could tell that Kurt was thinking something over. After a moment, he spoke up hesitantly.

'_Could – could you come over? Please?' _

Blaine looked at the time on his phone – it was nearing five o'clock. He could get away with telling his mother that he'd been unable to sleep and had gone for a run; the sun would be rising soon enough, anyway. He bit his lip.

'Of course I can,' he replied quickly, 'I'll be over in like twenty minutes, okay?'

Kurt sniffed, '_okay_.'

He hung up the phone then and went inside to get changed and make himself look somewhat presentable. He brushed his teeth and drowned himself in deodorant and then took a jacket from his closet and slipped downstairs, Pierre trailing behind him.

As be begun to unlock the door, Pierre started to whine. Blaine hesitated with his hand on the door handle – if Pierre started barking, he would wake his mother up and she would see he wasn't actually going for a run.

'Pierre, shush,' he hissed, patting the dog on the head and giving him a small push, 'go to sleep.'

Pierre simply jumped up on him and Blaine shoved him off, groaning. He thought quickly and went off to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out some leftover bolognaise sauce and shoving it in the microwave to heat it up a little. When it was sufficiently warm, he put the bowl down in front of Pierre, who began to eat it eagerly. Glad the dog was distracted, Blaine quietly slipped out of the house, used his key to lock it, and set off to Kurt's at a run.

He was glad Kurt didn't live too far away, and made it to his house in around fifteen minutes. It was about twenty past five when he got there – he pulled out his phone and texted Kurt instead of knocking, not wanting to wake anyone in the house up. A few moments later, Kurt opened the door, his eyes still a little red from crying, looking disheveled from sleep. Blaine, unable to resist, pulled him into his arms and kissed him deeply, wrapping his arms around him tight.

'I missed you so much,' Kurt breathed, pulling him into the house and closing the door softly behind them. He took Blaine's hand and led him downstairs into his bedroom.

'Why didn't you answer my texts?' Kurt asked once the door was shut. He sat on his bed and Blaine hung by the door, feeling a little guilty. He shrugged.

'I was in one of those moods,' he replied, 'one of those moods where you just… can't talk to people, you know? I wasn't mad at you or anything. I just… felt a little empty.'

Kurt's expression changed to one of sympathy and he held his arms out. Blaine crossed the room and hugged Kurt, who pulled him onto the bed next to him, still holding onto him. He leaned his head on Blaine's shoulder.

'Is that why you sang to me, baby?' he asked softly. Blaine nodded.

'I wanted you to know that you didn't do anything wrong. You didn't, okay? It was all me. But I'm okay now.'

'That was a beautiful song, Blaine,' Kurt told him, lifting his head and pressing his lips to Blaine's temple. Blaine smiled at him and yawned, feeling suddenly sleepy.

'Did you sleep at all, Blaine?' Kurt asked, looking suddenly suspicious. Blaine shrugged.

'A little,' he replied, 'and then I – I had nightmares. About the summer. And I just couldn't sleep then.'

Kurt made a sympathetic noise and kissed Blaine's forehead again.

'Do you want to sleep now? I can set an alarm – we still have a few hours.'

Blaine found himself nodding, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep in Kurt's arms, even for a few hours. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket as Kurt turned down the covers and then held his arms out to Blaine again, who settled within them against the pillows.

Kurt began to stroke Blaine's hair and his eyes immediately felt heavy as he nuzzled against Kurt's chest, sleep now coming easy to him. Kurt began to hum softly and it quickly lulled Blaine into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>'Blaine? Get up, we have school.'<p>

Blaine groaned and rolled over, burying his face in Kurt's pillow. He heard Kurt laugh and the covers were wrenched off of him.

'Come on, go have a shower while I get breakfast started. Carole and dad have both gone to work and Finn hasn't woken up yet, so can pretend you walked over here or something.'

Blaine rolled back over and sat up, rubbing at his eyes blearily. He felt beyond tired and he had a pounding headache, and his throat was parched. He opened his mouth to speak and when he did, he found out that his voice came out raspy and dry.

'That's convenient – _oh_. What's wrong with my voice?'

As soon as he spoke, he sneezed loudly and sniffed. Kurt looked at him in surprise.

'Sounds like you're getting a cold,' he commented, 'how are you feeling?'

'My head hurts?' Blaine whispered, as it hurt to speak any louder. He looked up at Kurt helplessly, 'I never get sick.'

Kurt pressed his hand against Blaine's forehead and frowned.

'You're burning up. I don't think you should go to school today, Blaine.' Kurt advised, looking at him critically, 'I'm going to get the thermometer and we'll see what's going on.'

Blaine nodded and then buried his face back in the pillow as Kurt left. He'd already missed too much training because of his eye – he couldn't afford to lose any more over a stupid cold. But his body was beginning to ache all over, and his skin felt as though it was on fire – he knew he wouldn't be able to train well at all in that kind of state.

Kurt came back down with a thermometer and another blanket a few minutes later, and by then Blaine was shivering.

'Blaine, sweetie, roll over,' Kurt ordered gently, rubbing Blaine's back. Blaine groaned and rolled onto his back and Kurt quickly stuck the thermometer in his mouth and wrapped the blanket around him.

'You were fine a few hours ago, I don't understand this…' he muttered as he waited for the reading to come through. The thermometer beeped and Kurt took it from Blaine's mouth, frowning at the small screen, '101… oh, sweetheart, you're running a fever.'

Blaine winced – he hated being sick.

'Alright, we're staying home today,' Kurt declared, setting the thermometer on his bedside table, 'I'm going to call Carole – and your mum, where's your phone?'

Blaine's phone was in his pocket and he struggled to give it to Kurt. When he did, Kurt unlocked it himself – he'd figured out the password a while ago – and called Blaine's mother.

'_Hello?'_

'Hello, Clarissa, it's Kurt.'

'_Kurt? Hello, sweetheart. How are you?'_

It was obvious that Clarissa was confused that Kurt was calling her – especially off of Blaine's phone, he probably didn't just want to chat.

'I'm fine, thank you. Um, listen, Blaine came over this morning after his um, run, and he fell asleep here and when he woke up, he had a fever.'

'_What's his temperature?'_

Kurt knew that Blaine's mother was a doctor and he suddenly felt glad to have someone with experience on the phone with him. After his mother had died, he'd always hated being around sick people and as a result didn't really know how to handle them.

'His temperate was 102 when I checked it a few minutes ago… he's shivering and he says he has a headache and he can't really talk, either. I just… what do I do?'

He sounded panicked and when Clarissa spoke next, her voice was soft and sympathetic.

'_Oh, honey, is he still at your house?'_

'Yes.'

'_I just arrived at work so I can't really go home now – if you can, take him home. If not, do you mind staying with him? I'm sure I could call the school and explain the situation.'_

'Oh, Blaine can stay here, there's fine. I'll call my stepmom and I'll take care of him until either one of you get back from work.'

'_Thank you for being so responsible, honey. Alright, just make sure he's getting a lot of fluids, okay? It's best to let the fever run its course unless it gets too serious; but Blaine isn't normally sick for long so I think he'll be okay. Give him a few Tylenol and get a cold, damp towel on his forehead to draw the heat out. And don't panic! Our Blaine is fighter, he'll be okay.'_

He could hear the smile in her voice and it gave him a little bit of reassurance. He thanked her and hung up the phone, quickly calling Carole to explain the situation.

There was a crash upstairs and he remembered that Finn was still home, getting ready for school. He went upstairs – Blaine seemed to have fallen asleep – and ran into his stepbrother in the hallway.

'Kurt, man, shouldn't you be dressed by now?' Finn asked, still sounding a little sleepy. Kurt shook his head.

'I'm not going anywhere today,' he told him, stepping past him to get to the kitchen, 'Blaine is downstairs with a fever and I have to take care of him!'

'Blaine? Did he spend the night?'

'No, uh, he came around a little past five this morning.' Kurt replied, Finn now following him into the kitchen. He filled a bowl with water and dumped a tea towel in it, before getting a few bottles of water from the pantry – they would be cool, but not too cold, so that Blaine's throat wouldn't hurt more – and then rummaged around for some Tylenol . He pointed to the bottles of water, 'could you please take those to my room?'

Finn agreed and they walked down the stairs together. Blaine had woken up and was looking around, confused and miserable. Kurt winced – he didn't like seeing Blaine in pain.

'Man, Blaine, are you okay?' Finn asked, setting the bottles down on Kurt's desk. Kurt glared at him.

'Of course he's not, Finn, he has a fever,' he snapped. He put the bowl of water down on his bedside table and began to wring the towel out to get the excess water out.

'I'll be okay,' Blaine assured Finn, his voice raspy. He shot him a weak smile and Finn smiled back.

'I hope you get better! Math won't be fun without you. I'll see you guys later!'

Blaine waved at him and Kurt called a goodbye over his shoulder as Finn left the room. He placed the towel on Blaine's forehead, who hissed slightly.

'So cold,' he muttered, as Kurt brought the blankets around him tighter.

'I think you need to sweat this out,' he told him, 'I actually don't really know how to treat fevers, to be honest.'

Blaine smiled at him, wincing slightly, 'do you have Tylenol? Just give me a few of those and some water.'

Kurt went over to the desk and opened a bottle of water and took two Tylenol from the box, and then gave them to Blaine, who winced.

'I _really_ do not like swallowing pills,' he announced to no one in particular, before sticking one of the tablets onto this tongue and washing it down with a few mouthfuls of water. He did that with the second and shuddered, taking a longer drink this time.

'Poor baby,' Kurt cooed, pressing his hand to Blaine's cheek, 'I feel so sorry for you.'

'Don't sit too close; I wouldn't want you to get sick, too.'

'Don't be silly, Blaine,' Kurt smiled, 'I'm going to take care of you.'

Blaine smiled at him then and then winced.

'Tylenol does not agree with me. What time is it?'

It was around eight o'clock and Blaine knew he was in for a long day – still, he would rather be sick now rather than later, though it would have an incredibly adverse effect on his body and his whole fitness would be ruined. He felt achy – not only from the sickness, but from not training for a few days.

He groaned and leaned back against the pillow as Kurt left the room, saying something about preparing food for them later. He didn't want to be sick.

'Why aren't you getting better?'

It came out as an exasperated sigh and Blaine shrugged meekly.

'I'm sorry?' he offered, his voice small. Kurt's expression softened.

'Oh, no, sweetie, I'm not blaming you,' he assured him, 'you've just been in pain the whole day and I'm tired of seeing you like this.'

Blaine frowned, not really knowing why he wasn't getting better. Granted, he was feeling a bit better – it was around two o'clock in the afternoon – but his temperature hadn't really dropped and it was beginning to frustrate Kurt.

'I made you soup though,' Kurt smiled, 'earlier when you were asleep. Do you want some?'

As if on cue, Blaine's stomach rumbled and he chuckled softly.

'That sounds amazing,' he replied, 'but I think I have to go upstairs to eat, I'm going to die from being in this bed all day.'

Kurt reluctantly allowed Blaine to get out of bed and they went upstairs together, Kurt holding Blaine's hand so that he could hold onto him if he felt as though he was about to collapse or something. They made it to the kitchen unscathed, and Blaine sat at the kitchen counter while Kurt went to heat the soup up on the stove.

He caught sight of his reflection in the microwave then and his eyes widened.

'Why didn't you tell me I looked so awful?' he asked, looking completely self conscious. Blaine smiled at him.

'You don't look awful,' he replied lightly, 'you look beautiful.'

Kurt looked skeptical but he smiled anyway, and walked around the counter to kiss Blaine on the top of the head.

'I wish I could kiss you,' Blaine pouted, 'it's been far too long.'

'Kiss me then,' Kurt smiled. When Blaine shook his head resolutely, muttering something about 'not wanting to get Kurt sick', Kurt cupped his face gently and pressed their lips together.

Blaine tried to pull away – well, he wanted to, but he found he couldn't. Whenever Kurt kissed him, it was like they were joined by magnets and could never pull away from one another. He smiled into the kiss, keeping it light, not wanting it to go far enough for Kurt to get seriously sick.

The pot on the stove began to bubble and Kurt pulled away to turn the heat off. He got out two bowls and spooned soup into each one, and then set one down in front of Blaine and put the other in front of the chair next to him for himself.

'Chicken noodle?' Blaine teased, blowing on his spoonful of soup to cool it down, 'how cliché, Kurt.'

Kurt rolled his eyes at him and they enjoyed their soup together in silence.

'Thank you for today,' Blaine spoke up suddenly, scraping his spoon against the bottom of the bowl to get the last of it, 'I mean, I thought you would just take me home and leave me to fend for myself.'

Kurt turned to him incredulously.

'Blaine, I love you,' he reminded him, 'this is my job. Of course I'm not going to leave you alone when you're sick, what kind of boyfriend would that make me? In sickness and in health, right?'

Blaine smiled softly, 'when did we get married?'

'In your sickness induced haze,' Kurt replied playfully, kissing Blaine quickly, 'we went to Vegas and got married. Surprise!'

Blaine laughed and then glanced down at his hand and frowned.

'Where's our rings then, if we got married?' he asked. Kurt thought for a moment before heading over to one of the cabinets, pulling out a roll of aluminum foil. He tore some off and quickly fashioned two rings from it and went back over to Blaine and held his hand out. Blaine placed his hand on Kurt's and Kurt slipped one of the rings onto this ring finger, smiling softly.

Blaine could feel his heart begin to pick up speed – he knew that it wasn't for real, they were just fooling around, of course, but the idea of marrying Kurt was enough to make his mouth go dry and his heart race. It was early, too early, to be thinking about marriage of any sort – not that it was legal in Ohio, anyway, but he was in love with Kurt. Right now, if he were to ever be married, he couldn't think of anyone else to marry other than the beautiful boy in front of him.

Kurt gave him the other ring and held out his hand, which Blaine took gently, sliding the ring onto his ring finger with a slightly shaky hand.

'Your hands are shaking,' Kurt commented, his tone soft.

'I – uh, it's the sickness, I think.'

It was a lie and they both knew it. Kurt suddenly pulled Blaine into a hug and kissed his temple softly.

'I know it's too early to think of this,' he told him quietly, 'but I wouldn't want to marry anyone else but you, okay? I know what you're thinking. I think of it, too.'

Blaine could picture them standing in front of a priest – he in traditional black, Kurt in a beautiful white suit, looking deep into each other's eyes, reciting the vows they had written for each other. His stomach turned at the thought and he couldn't resist smiling.

'That's – that's a long way away.'

'I know,' Kurt smiled and kissed him on the lips this time, 'and we shouldn't be worrying about it, okay? What's important is what we have right here. Right now. And right now, I love you so much that I think my heart will burst.'

Blaine was so overcome by emotion at that moment that he forgot about the possibility of making Kurt sick, and he cupped his face in his hands and kissed him for all he was worth. Kurt was right – what they had right now was what was important. He loved Kurt.

The two went downstairs after that and Blaine took a few more Tylenol and settled back into bed, only this time, he was joined in bed by Kurt, who didn't seem to care that he himself could get sick.

'Let's sleep,' Blaine suggested, 'I mean, I think that my best chance of getting rid of this is by sleeping and well… we didn't really get a chance to sleep for long this morning.'

Kurt smiled at him and quickly dabbed at his forehead with the cool cloth. He set it aside and kissed Blaine's forehead.

'I think that sounds like a lovely idea,' he replied, pulling Blaine closer to him and snuggling against the pillows.

The two – exhausted from their day; Kurt nursing Blaine back to health and Blaine just being sick in general – fell asleep within moments, their hands joined, Blaine's head leaning against Kurt's chest.

When Carole found them when she came back from her shift at the hospital a few hours later, she had to smile. She took her phone out and took a picture of them; even though Kurt's hair was a mess and his face was blotchy from the heat radiating from Blaine, and Blaine was covered a light coating of sweat and was ashen-faced, they looked perfect.

And then she saw their joined hands and the rings on their fingers, her smile widened.

She made a promise to herself then that she would always fight for Kurt's – and Blaine's – rights to love whomever they wanted, and to marry if they wanted, because everyone deserved the chance to be forever bound to the person they loved, as the two of them clearly were.

She shut the door softly and went upstairs to start on dinner, passing Burt on her way, who was watching a football game on the television.

'Is the kid okay?' Burt asked, having taken a liking to Blaine after seeing how well he treated his son. Carole smiled widely.

'I think they're both a lot more than okay,' she replied fondly, continuing to the kitchen. Burt was a little confused by her response, but he was glad they were both okay – a happy Blaine meant a happy Kurt, and that was all he could ever want for his son.

* * *

><p><strong>Merry Christmas everyone! My day wasn't really good at all so I decided to just write this instead of moping around - productive, if you ask me! I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas and got everything you wanted; but more importantly, I hope you were able to spend the day with the people you love, and if not, I hope you remember them fondly, because after all, Christmas is about appreciating those we love and all the things we are lucky to have.<br>Oh, the songs I used this chapter are **_With My Own Two Hands - Jack Johnson ft. Ben Harper _**and** _As __Much As I Ever Could - City and Colour_, **two beautiful songs, get me teary every time. I suggest you listen to them**, **it would probably help to get the emotion across!  
>Again, Merry Christmas everyone; have a safe and happy holidays.<strong>**  
><strong>


	21. Chapter 21

Blaine walked into the gym that weekend feeling better than he ever had.

His fever had subsided the next morning but he had felt off and groggy the rest of the week; he honestly couldn't wait to get back in the gym and get his fitness back up.

He had called Martin the day before to explain everything that had been going on; Martin, though he wasn't too thrilled about the week of training he had missed – especially seeing as his title fight was a mere month away – had understood that he had been sick and not in the proper mental state to give it a hundred per cent. But now Blaine was excited – he was back in the gym, a place that had felt like home his entire life – even when he was too young to train, he would come to the gym to watch his father train, or to watch MMA competitions amongst both the youth and the adults.

He changed quickly and headed back out to see if he could find Martin. He did find him; he was standing next to a cage talking to a boy he'd never seen before – granted, he could only see the back of the boy's head but he didn't seem to recognize him. He approached them anyway, and Martin looked over the boy's shoulder and smiled.

'Speak of the devil!' he explained, turning back to the boy, 'this is the boy I've been telling you about – Blaine.'

The boy spun around then and Blaine almost stopped dead in his tracks. The boy gave him a small, amused smile and Blaine found himself walking a little slower.

'Hello, Martin,' he greeted him, and was surprised to find that he sounded a little cautious, 'um, sorry, but what is going on here?'

Martin grinned at him, 'Blaine, I would like you to meet a new member of the gym!'

The boy extended a hand and Blaine felt his breath catch in his throat; he may have had a boyfriend whom he was completely devoted to, but that didn't stop him from noticing exactly how good looking this boy was.

'Aloysius Conti,' he introduced himself, the same smirk still in place. He pronounced it as _Alo-wish-us _and Blaine felt himself shiver involuntarily at the low, velvety tone.

'Blaine Anderson,' he replied, shaking his hand firmly for a brief moment before dropping it.

Aloysius Conti – Blaine could already tell from his name – was an Italian boy, a year older than Blaine. He was taller than Blaine, maybe even a little taller than Kurt, and had jet black hair, which was carefully styled, and eyes the color of mercury, both piercing and mysterious. They seemed to gleam under the artificial lights of the gym, which also set off his deeply tanned skin. He was very aristocratic in appearance, with a strong, angular jaw and clothes that were obviously expensive foreign labels. Blaine swallowed hard and remembered Kurt – his beautiful, strong Kurt, who had been there for him through everything. This Aloysius character was a stranger; no matter how attractive he was, Blaine's heart belonged to Kurt.

'You don't seem like the fighting type,' Blaine remarked a little defensively. The boy didn't seem very trustworthy and he couldn't possibly let his guard down this early. He seemed dark and mysterious and the way he was looking at Blaine did nothing to settle his suspicions.

'I'm sure you don't look like a fighter out of your training gear, either,' Aloysius replied easily, a tiny grin on his face. He took his words as an excuse to rake his eyes up Blaine's body and Blaine felt a shock run though him – this boy had to be the male version of Santana.

'So, boys,' Martin cut in, forcing Aloysius to turn his attention back to Martin, 'I was thinking you two could spar or something while I get the paperwork done.'

'I don't think Aloysius is in proper gear for training,' Blaine commented, glancing at the boy's obviously costly attire, 'I wouldn't want to ruin his designer brands.'

It was a little snarky and Martin raised his eyebrows at Blaine questioningly. Aloysius only smirked and he nodded slightly.

'Of course, Blaine is right,' he agreed, and for the first time, Blaine noticed the slightest hint of an Italian accent, 'I'm not dressed properly – perhaps while you finalize the paperwork Blaine could show me around Westerville, perhaps get some good coffee?'

Martin started to nod at the same time Blaine shook his head. He didn't want to show Aloysius around one bit – he _especially _didn't want to get coffee with him, and his body was itching for a treadmill or a boxing bag. He wanted to train; it had been a week and he was already starting to feel the negative effects of being inactive for so long after a lifetime of trainings.

'I'm sorry, but I really do have to train, Martin; it's been a week.'

'Why haven't you been training?' Aloysius asked. Blaine had half a mind to tell him to shut up and mind his own business – he really couldn't bring himself to like the boy – but there was a genuine curiosity in his voice that he couldn't ignore.

'Well first I had this,' Blaine pointed to his now fading bruise, 'I couldn't really see out of it and Martin wouldn't let me train and then a few days ago I had a fever.'

Aloysius nodded, another one of those stupid smiles on his face. Blaine honestly didn't understand him; he was looking at him as though he was a piece of meat.

'Well, I wouldn't mind watching you train,' Aloysius told him, and when Blaine raised his eyebrows he added, 'you know, to see your technique and whatnot.'

'Aloysius was a lightweight champion back in Italy,' Martin told him excitedly, 'so I thought it would be good if you two trained together, you know, so he could help you out with some of your ground work.'

'Ground work?' Blaine repeated flatly, raising an eyebrow. Rolling around on the floor with a boy who had been eyeing him hungrily for the past ten minutes didn't seem the least bit appealing to Blaine. Aloysius, however, grinned.

'You know, Mr. Ortiz, that sounds like a great idea,' he told him, and Martin smiled, 'perhaps you have something I could change into? If Blaine here needs help, I daresay the sooner we start, the better.'

Blaine silently pleaded that Martin wouldn't have anything for Aloysius to wear, but he simply smiled at the boy and motioned that he follow him to the changing room. They left and Blaine exhaled heavily, walking over to the bag he'd dumped next to the punching bags, where he planned on starting his training. He pulled out his phone and quickly texted Kurt.

_I love you._ – _B_

He felt as though he needed to reassure Kurt that he did indeed love him, because he felt as though he was being unfaithful for some reason. He knew that he should be allowed to find other boys attractive – he was only human, after all – but Aloysius made him uncomfortable and he just wished he had Kurt with him.

_I love you too, baby! – K _

Blaine smiled at the text and dropped his phone back in his bag, only to see Martin and Aloysius emerging from the changing room, deep in discussion. Aloysius now wore a pair of baggy silver training shorts and an impossibly tight black tank top. Blaine had to tear his gaze away from the smooth, tanned skin and the broad, muscled chest and his toned arms.

_Kurt, _he thought desperately, _beautiful, amazing Kurt, with skin like porcelain and the looks of an angel._

And he smiled at the thought of his boyfriend, pushing the thoughts of Aloysius from his head. He walked over to his trainer and the new boy; they now stood next to the cage, still talking.

'Well, I should leave you to it,' Martin announced as Blaine drew closer, 'you two probably have a lot of training to do! I know you're about to jump out of your skin, Blaine!'

Blaine laughed at how true the statement was – the whole week he had been anxious and jittery, side effects of not training. Martin bid them both goodbye and headed off to his office, leaving Blaine and Aloysius standing awkwardly together.

'So, um, should we stretch or something?'

'I suppose.' Aloysius smirked, shrugging his shoulders, his eyes raking down Blaine's body once again. Blaine felt a mixture of flattery and awkwardness – why couldn't he tell Aloysius to stop?

Stretching turned out to be even more awkward, because every time Blaine would move, Aloysius' eyes would follow – and every time Aloysius moved, Blaine would find himself doing the same.

_Stop it, Blaine, _he thought sharply, _you're not attracted to Aloysius. You're in love with Kurt!_

He forced his eyes away from Aloysius and kept them down for the rest of their stretches. Now feeling warmed up and fluid, Blaine was ready to get his fight on, something he hadn't done in too long. Blaine went over to his bag to get his gloves and saw that he had a new text from Kurt. He opened it and grinned at the message.

_Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel, like you're less than, less than perfect! You are perfect to me, Blaine!_

He put his phone back in his bag, planning on replying later, and grabbed his gloves, going back to Aloysius. He must have still been grinning because Aloysius looked at him with raised eyebrows.

'Someone special?' he asked casually. Blaine's grin widened slightly.

'Boyfriend,' he replied easily, beginning to strap the gloves firmly to his hands. He saw a flash of some sort of disappointment pass through Aloysius' eyes but the boy seemed to recover quickly and he smiled in what he probably thought was a friendly manner.

'I didn't think you were gay,' he remarked, and Blaine felt his cheeks begin to color. He glanced at Aloysius.

'You're gay too, right?' he asked, 'I mean, you're checking me out far too much to be straight.'

At that, Aloysius grinned properly, revealing a set of gleaming white teeth.

'No harm in admiring the scenery,' he shrugged, strapping up his own gloves, 'shame you're off the market, though.'

Blaine looked at him, disapproval written across his face. Aloysius merely winked at him.

'Let's train, shall we?'

An hour and a half later and sweat was pouring off of Blaine. His breathing was erratic and heavy, the blood pumping through his veins at an exhilarating pace.

He hadn't trained with someone his age in quite a while, and he had to admit, having a training buddy was something he sorely missed. When he was at Dalton, some of the Warblers would accompany him to the gym sometimes, but they weren't as fit as Blaine was and would usually need to stop after about an hour – now Blaine had finally found someone who rivaled his fitness; Aloysius was still hitting the bag with vigor, something Blaine had to admire.

'Do you want to spar?' Aloysius called suddenly, stepping back from the bag to catch his breath. He gestured to a cage behind him and Blaine nodded, wanting nothing more than to feel the thrill of actually fighting again. He got to his feet – he'd sat down for a moment to regain himself – and they headed into the cage.

The weight difference would mean that Aloysius would have a little bit of an advantage over Blaine, but his focus was Brazilian jiu-jitsu and Blaine's was kickboxing – as long as he stayed on his feet, he wouldn't lose.

They touched gloves and circled each other, Blaine kicking into predatory mode. Aloysius threw the first punch, which he dodged easily, and retaliated with a sharp jab to Aloysius' nose. Aloysius looked momentarily stunned, and threw another punch, which clipped Blaine on the chin and in return, he kicked Aloysius in the ribs.

And the fight began.

They seemed to fight savagely, rather than strategically. Each boy seemed to be intent on causing the other as much pain as possible rather than working on technique. Blaine seemed to be winning as they were still on their feet and he found Aloysius' punches and kicks to be rather beneath his.

But then Aloysius lunged at him and Blaine was too slow to avoid it. He hooked his arm under Blaine's knee and another under his arm, and Blaine, being smaller and lighter than Aloysius, found himself being hoisted into the air for a moment before he was thrown back to the ground.

His back collided painfully with the floor and he winced slightly, before the wind was slightly knocked out of him by Aloysius' body landing on top of his. There was a struggle, and Blaine, wanting to get free from the hold, pushed Aloysius off him and rolled onto his front.

The stupidity of the move came crashing down on him a moment later – both figuratively and literally – as Aloysius climbed onto Blaine's back and hooked his feet around his hips, unleashing strong hits to his head and ribs. Blaine rolled in an attempt to get Aloysius off of him and they found themselves on their backs, Aloysius' legs still wrapped around his hips. Blaine punched behind him blindly, hearing a satisfying gasp of pain as one of his hits collided with Aloysius' face, before he felt an arm snake around his neck and he cursed internally as Aloysius grabbed his right wrist with his left, twisting his right arm and pulling it back against Blaine's neck, effectively crushing his windpipe and cutting off his breathing – a perfectly executed rear choke. He tapped quickly and Aloysius released him, gently pushing Blaine off of him.

'Good fight, Blaine,' Aloysius smirked, and Blaine knew that he was mocking him. He wanted to beat Aloysius – he knew he couldn't do that on the ground; he was bigger, stronger and more experienced than Blaine was and he just didn't have the skill to pull it off.

'Ground work isn't my strong point,' Blaine muttered, rubbing at his now sore throat. Aloysius laughed softly.

'Apparently it's the strong point of the boy you're competing against. If you fight me and learn how to defend yourself – maybe even beat me – you'll have a good shot against that Russian guy you're meant to be fighting.'

Blaine nodded, though he didn't like the fact that Aloysius was able to lecture him. He felt his confidence in himself slipping further – he wanted to be able to win.

'Hey,' Aloysius laughed, 'don't be so hard on yourself. At least if you lose, you'll look good doing it.'

Blaine rolled his eyes at the blatant display of flirting and Aloysius heaved himself to his feet, holding a hand out for Blaine to take.

'I don't bite,' he assured him, grinning slyly when Blaine hesitated. He reached out and took his hand and was pulled to his feet, only to be pulled _too _close, and he felt Aloysius' arm wrap around his waist. He began to feel both hot and uncomfortable.

'I bet I could teach you a few things apart from fighting,' Aloysius murmured, leaning in. Blaine almost lost his head then, and felt his eyes begin to shut on their own accord, but Kurt flashed through his mind and he regained himself, shoving Aloysius back roughly.

'_What_ are you doing?' he demanded, 'I love my boyfriend. I barely know you.'

'How can you reject something you haven't had the chance to experience?' Aloysius challenged, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at Blaine with a sort of twisted amusement. Blaine's eyes narrowed.

'I'm in love with Kurt – not you. I will never be in love with you and you're an awful person,' he told him flatly, crossing his own arms over his chest, 'you might have beaten me in the cage, but if you try come between me and Kurt, I will make sure it's the last thing you ever do. You might be good on the ground but you're not so flashy on your feet and it would only take me a minute to completely destroy you.'

With his little rant over, he stormed out of the cage, picked up his bag, and left the gym, fuming.

* * *

><p>Blaine paced around his bedroom, the annoyance from earlier still lingering. He honestly couldn't believe Aloysius – just because he was attractive didn't mean Blaine would drop everything and run to him. He had a boyfriend, whom he <em>loved <em>very much, and he didn't need someone trying to take that from him.

He spotted the aluminum foil ring Kurt had made him and he smiled softly at the sight, picking it up and sliding it onto his finger. He felt a small amount of relief and decided then that he needed Kurt to be there with him.

_Can you come over? It's a little urgent. – B_

_Of course! I'll be there in a few, x – K_

Blaine went downstairs to wait for Kurt, lingering in the hallway. He felt disappointed in himself beyond comprehension – he'd almost allowed himself to cheat on Kurt, something he'd never thought he'd succumb to. He'd heard tales of people cheating on their significant others – even the fiasco with his mother and Martin had been classed as cheating in his books – and it repulsed him. But he's almost done that to his Kurt, the boy he loved more than anything in the world.

The minutes seemed to drag on but eventually there was a knock at the door. Blaine threw the door open and before Kurt even had the chance to say hello, he pulled him into his arms and kissed him passionately.

Kurt made a started noise in the back of his throat but quickly relaxed, leaning into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck.

'Hello to you too,' Kurt laughed breathlessly, pulling away from Blaine for a moment, only to be pulled back in for another fierce kiss.

'I love you,' Blaine told him solemnly, looking into his eyes, 'I love you and only you, okay?'

Kurt looked confused as Blaine shut the door behind them.

'What happened, Blaine?' he asked, with perhaps a bit of suspicion, 'you're acting… strange.'

Blaine hesitated, 'I – I – at the gym today, we had a new guy. His name was Aloysius.'

'And…?'

'He tried to kiss me.'

Kurt's expression fell so quickly that Blaine felt as though he had been punched in the gut. He grabbed Kurt's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

'I pushed him off before it could happen,' he assured him desperately, 'and I threatened to make sure it was the last thing he ever did if he tried to come between us. I – I told him I loved _you, _Kurt, because I do. I love you so much.'

But Kurt still looked sad and he took his hand from Blaine's, his eyes downcast.

'I knew this would happen.'

'Knew what would happen?' Blaine asked, beginning to feel the panic rise in his throat – Kurt wouldn't break up with him, would he?

When he looked up, his eyes were shining with tears.

'I knew you would realize I wasn't good enough for you.'

Blaine then hugged him with such ferocity that he was surprised Kurt wasn't crushed into powder then and there.

'Don't ever say that,' he breathed, feeling tears begin to well up in his own eyes, 'don't ever think you're not good enough for me, Kurt. You saved me. I love you.'

Blaine stepped back then and was pained to see tears running down Kurt's face.

'What if – if he's better than me?' Kurt asked softly, 'he's a fighter, isn't he? You two already have more in common. He's probably better looking than me… what if he sings better than me, too?'

Aloysius – though undoubtedly gorgeous – would never compare to Kurt, and Blaine told him so and kissed him softly.

'You're so perfect,' he murmured against his lips, 'you're my boy, and I love you more than anything.'

He felt Kurt kiss him back then and they lost themselves in each other for a few more moments.

'Blaine, I love you,' Kurt told him once they'd pulled apart, 'and I want what's best for you. If it's that boy… go – go for it.'

Blaine sighed heavily.

'_That boy_,' he replied softly, 'is nothing in comparison to you. _You're my true love, my whole heart, please don't throw that away._'

Kurt chuckled softly at the sudden singing, but his smile faltered.

'I love you, Blaine.'

'Kurt,' Blaine kissed him again, 'come with me.'

He took Kurt by the hand and led him upstairs to his bedroom, shutting the door behind them. He took Kurt to his bed and pushed him onto it gently.

Then he kissed him, softly and lovingly, climbing onto the bed with him. Kurt's hands tangled into his hair and they fell back, never parting, as their lips moved fluidly together, unable to get enough of one another. Blaine ran his hands slowly over Kurt's body, over his chest, fingers dancing over his cheekbones, sliding into his hair. He loved Kurt – he loved him so much that it was beginning to hurt.

'I love you,' Kurt breathed, his confidence that Blaine still wanted him growing with every kiss. Blaine trailed a line of kisses down Kurt's jaw and throat and rested his head on Kurt's chest for a moment, feeling the heartbeat beneath his skin.

'I love you too, baby,' he replied softly, pressing a kiss over Kurt's heart. His hand moved to join with Kurt's and they simply lay there for a while, their breath falling in sync.

'I want you to know,' Blaine spoke up after a while, 'that no matter what anyone tries; I'm yours for as long as you'll have me, okay?'

'I hope you're not planning on going anywhere,' Kurt replied, and Blaine could hear the smile in his voice, 'because I plan on keeping you around forever.'


	22. Chapter 22

January turned to February, and Kurt had insisted he come to Westerville the next time Blaine had training.

'So I can keep an eye on this Aloysius fellow,' he explained, and then smiled, 'and because Valentine's Day is soon and I want to get you something.'

Valentine's Day this year would obviously be a big deal for Blaine – he'd never had someone to spend it with. Every year since Blaine had come out, his parents would go out for dinner and he would be stuck with an equally depressed Martin – something that made a lot of sense to him now – and they would sit on his couch and watch sappy romance movies and eat ice cream and complain about how alone they were. It had become a sort of tradition to them now, and even though it seemed silly, it was something that Blaine would miss this year. But he had Kurt now – it would be Kurt's first important Valentine's Day, too, and he wanted to go all out and show Kurt exactly how special he was.

He liked being on top of things, so he'd already made a booking at a beautiful French restaurant and convinced his mother to go out for the night – he was pretty sure she would be spending her night with Martin, but as much as he didn't approve, it meant an empty house for him and Kurt and that was more than he could have hoped for.

He was still a little stuck on a present and had made plans to go shopping with Nick the following day, who still had to buy a gift for Jeff.

So they found themselves driving to Westerville, discussing plans for Valentine's Day. Kurt was trying to guess where Blaine was taking them and what they would be doing for the evening, but Blaine wasn't letting him have any details. He wanted to surprise Kurt and spoil him. Valentine's Day was on a Tuesday, which was mildly inconvenient as they had school the next day, but Burt and Carole had relented and agreed to let Kurt spend the night at Blaine's, knowing how special the day was to the both of them.

'Do you want to shop while I go to the gym?' Blaine asked as they entered Westerville, 'I mean, I doubt you want me to see what you're getting me.'

'No, I want to come to the gym with you,' Kurt replied resolutely, crossing his arms over his chest. He still wanted to meet this Aloysius character and judge him harshly and possibly intervene if he made any moves on his boyfriend. Blaine nodded and drove them to the gym.

Once inside, Blaine spotted Aloysius almost instantly. He was on the bags, assaulting them with a brutal amount of force. Blaine paused momentarily to admire his technique and when he turned back around, Kurt was staring at him, eyebrows raised, arms crossed over his chest.

'Having a nice look?' he asked sarcastically, not looking very amused. Blaine bit his lip and apologized quickly.

'No, no, it's not like that,' he assured him, 'I was just watching the way he hits – it's – it's a good technique…'

When Kurt still didn't look convinced, he grabbed his hand and squeezed it softly.

'You're the only one I want to look at,' he told him quietly, 'I promise, baby.'

Kurt's expression softened then and he gave Blaine a small smile, looking over his shoulder.

'So, that's him?' he asked, looking both mildly impressed and a little threatened. Blaine smirked.

'Now who's staring?'

'He _is_ very good looking…'

Blaine looked at Kurt, confused, to see that his eyes had glazed over a little and he was now openly staring at Aloysius, who hadn't noticed them yet. He saw Kurt's eyes drop to roam over Aloysius' body and he felt a little spark of jealousy flare though him.

'Okay, I get it, Kurt,' he muttered, running a hand through his hair in annoyance, 'I'm going to go get changed. I'll be right back.'

He left Kurt standing there, and as soon as he had disappeared into the changing rooms, Aloysius – whom they thought hadn't seen them yet – perked up and turned to look at Kurt, a small smile stretching across his handsome face.

He walked over to Kurt, who still couldn't tear his eyes away.

'You must be Blaine's little boyfriend,' Aloysius' smile turned into his usual smirk and he raked his eyes down Kurt's body. Kurt – much like Blaine – felt an involuntary shudder go through him. He found himself nodding, his heart beating a little faster than normal.

'Y-yeah, I'm Kurt Hummel,' he replied, holding out his hand for a reason unknown to him. Aloysius dragged his eyes back up Kurt's body to lock eyes with him, and he took his hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a small kiss to Kurt's knuckles.

'Aloysius Conti. Blaine never told me you were _this_ good looking.'

Kurt bit his lip and managed to take his hand back from Aloysius, twisting it with his other hand nervously. His tongue seemed to be glued to the roof of his mouth; he couldn't really find anything to say to this charming young man.

Luckily, he was saved by Blaine coming out of the changing room then, and when he saw them, his face fell completely. He walked over to Kurt and took his hand possessively, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

'I see you've met Aloysius.'

'I – um, yeah.' Kurt replied, barely noticing Blaine's hand in his. Blaine noticed how unresponsive he was and he shot a glare at Aloysius, who seemed to realize that was going on. He looked amused and Blaine found himself hating him.

'_Stay away from him_.' he shot in perfect Italian, and Aloysius raised his eyebrows, looking mildly impressed.

'_I didn't know you spoke Italian,_' he replied, and then his expression turned into one of amusement, '_and I'm afraid I can't; he's far too beautiful. Unless, of course, _you_ want me for yourself. I'll take either of you.'_

Blaine's eyes narrowed, '_you will have neither of us. We're in love.'_

Aloysius laughed.

'_With the way he's been looking at me, I don't think he's in love with you_.' he commented, '_in fact, he's barely noticing you're here.'_

Blaine felt a sharp tug in his chest and he realized that Aloysius was indeed right – Kurt wasn't really paying attention to him at all. He let go of Kurt's hand.

'_I came here to train, anyway,' _he told Aloysius, '_so are we going to train or not? Because I would really like to hit you a few times right now.'_

Aloysius let out another chuckle and he nodded, '_alright, Blaine. Let's fight.'_

Aloysius then turned to look at Kurt and he smiled at him.

'If you'll excuse me, my dear, Blaine and I have a score to settle in the cage.'

And instead of telling him off for the term of endearment, he simply nodded and Blaine shot him a look as if to say '_what is wrong with you?_' before following Aloysius to the cage.

It was a matter of honor now – he had to beat Aloysius to get his man back. Clearly Kurt was impressed at how big and muscular and attractive Aloysius was – obviously there weren't too many good looking gay boys in Ohio to admire, Blaine understood that, but he couldn't help but feel incredibly hurt at Kurt's behavior.

They entered the cage and Aloysius immediately stripped off his shirt in an attempt to show off. Blaine noticed the tanned skin and the toned muscles briefly before he turned and saw Kurt practically gaping at him. The jealousy grew, and wanting to outdo Aloysius – he was pretty sure his body was just as good, if not better – he stripped off his own shirt.

Kurt's eyes immediately snapped to Blaine and the look he gave him couldn't have been legal. Feeling satisfied at Aloysius' put out expression, Blaine held out a gloved hand and Aloysius touched it with his, and the fight began.

They circled each other much like they had a few days ago and Aloysius again threw the first punch, which Blaine dodged easily. He had to win – it was a matter of pride now, and he was more focused than he had been in a while. He dodged another punch and quickly retaliated with a powerful right hook to the head, causing Aloysius to stumble. Aloysius tried to shake the punch off and refocus, and Blaine used this as an opportunity to hit him in the chest with a front kick. Aloysius stumbled back a few paces, and from then, it was easy. Blaine unleashed blow after blow to his head and body, and after a while of this, Aloysius shoved him back roughly.

'Let me catch my breath, god!' he gasped, rubbing his stomach, which was throbbing with pain from one of Blaine's kicks. Blaine grinned and ignored the plea, shoving him back softly.

'You don't get breaks in the cage, champion,' he teased, and Aloysius glared at him, but moved back into a fighting stance and their fight resumed.

Every time Aloysius lunged for a takedown, Blaine would dodge it easily. He felt determined and he was moving lightly on his feet – he couldn't remember the last time he'd fought so well.

Perhaps it was because he now had a cause – he'd seen the look on Kurt's face when Aloysius had pushed Blaine away to catch his breath, and Kurt was looking right at him, eyes shining with admiration. He had then looked at Aloysius and looked completely unimpressed, and Blaine's spirits had soared.

Aloysius lunged forward once more and Blaine moved out of the way, causing Aloysius to fall on all fours, a critical mistake on his part. Blaine kicked him savagely in the ribs and heard him gasp in pain, before remembering that it was indeed only practice and he couldn't injure him intentionally. He allowed Aloysius to get to his feet, and as soon as he was steady, Blaine spun and kicked him straight in the head.

The kick knocked him off his feet, and he fell down on his ass, a mutinous expression on his face. Blaine laughed and held his hand out to him, which he pushed aside, getting to his feet on his own.

'I think I won that,' Blaine smirked, grabbing his shirt from the side of the cage and using it to mop the sweat from his face. He ran it over his hair, surprised at how badly he was perspiring – if anything, Aloysius really was a great workout partner.

'We're even then,' Aloysius shot, 'next time, you won't be so lucky.'

'I wouldn't get so cocky, Aloysius,' Blaine warned, his tone teasing, 'I might have to knock you on your ass again.'

Aloysius grumbled under his breath and Blaine shook his head, smiling, stepping out of the cage, only to be pulled aside by Kurt.

'That was the hottest thing I've ever seen,' he informed him, his voice husky, before pulling him in for a heated kiss. Blaine's feeling of satisfaction escalated tenfold as he wrapped his arms around Kurt as he kissed him, not really caring that he was probably getting Kurt all sweaty, too. Kurt didn't seem to mind; his hands tangled in Blaine's hair and he pushed him so that his back was against the cage, his tongue sliding across Blaine's lower lip in an attempt to deepen the kiss.

Blaine flipped them over then, pressing his body against Kurt's. They were probably attracting a lot of attention – though he knew none of the patrons would really mind; it's not like they cared that he was gay. He felt Kurt take his bottom lip between his teeth and nip at it gently and couldn't stop the low moan that escaped his throat.

Suddenly, there was a low whistle behind them and they jumped apart, turning to see Martin, looking at them with a mixture of disapproval and amusement.

'The gym is hardly a place for a make out session, boys,' he told them as he approached them. Blaine rolled his eyes.

'That didn't seem to stop you and mum.'

Martin raised his eyebrow and smirked, 'touché. How'd training go?'

'It's not over yet,' Blaine replied, 'I sparred Aloysius – I actually don't know where he went,' he turned to look in the cage and saw Aloysius wasn't there, 'but I kind of kicked the shit out of him. He couldn't even take me down.'

Martin grinned then and clapped Blaine on the shoulder, which was a sign of affection from him, 'well done! That's great to hear. I'm guessing you were fighting well?'

'I haven't felt that good about my fighting in so long,' Blaine confessed, 'I felt so light on my feet and everything came so easily. Even dodging hits and takedown attempts; it was all so simple.'

'He was amazing,' Kurt spoke up, looking at Blaine with dark eyes, a small smile playing on his kiss-swollen lips, 'Aloysius barely got a hit in.'

Blaine smiled proudly, glad he had impressed Kurt. He and Martin talked for a few more minutes before Martin went back to his office to do paperwork, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone.

'Blaine,' Kurt started, as soon as Martin was a good distance away, 'I am so, so sorry for ignoring you today.'

Blaine didn't answer, but he dropped his gaze to his feet, feeling suddenly inadequate. He heard Kurt sigh and a moment later he felt his hand cup his cheek.

'Look at me,' Kurt implored softly, 'please, Blaine?'

Blaine looked up and Kurt kissed him softly.

'I'm sorry,' he apologized, and Blaine could hear the sincerity in his tone, 'I've been treating you horrible since we came and I'm sorry. Aloysius – he's good looking, but he's nothing compared to you. _No one_ compares you. I love you so, so much, Blaine.'

And Blaine forgave him, because how could he not when Kurt was so obviously sorry? He smiled at him and Kurt kissed him softly.

'I forgive you,' he told him, touching their foreheads together, 'and I love you, too.'

Kurt's face split into a gorgeous smile then and he kissed Blaine again.

'I'm going to let you train in peace now; I wanna go to the mall and get you a present. Text me when you're done so I can pick up you?'

Blaine nodded and they kissed briefly once more before Kurt left and Blaine headed to the treadmill, feeling considerably better about his day.

* * *

><p>Blaine spotted Nick in the food court the next day, waiting patiently with his hands clasped together on top of a table, dressed impeccably as ever. He smiled at Blaine as he saw him and stood up, hugging his friend as he drew closer.<p>

'Always a pleasure, Blaine,' he chirped, still smiling, as Blaine patted him on the back.

'Same to you, man,' Blaine replied, 'now, what are we going to get our boys?'

They had texted briefly the night before, brainstorming ideas. Nick – who had been dating Jeff for over two years now – was intent on getting him a promise ring. Blaine figured that it was far too early to get Kurt anything of the sort, and he figured clothes would be a little tacky, so he would wing it and if he saw something he liked, he would get him that.

They decided to go through jewelry stores first so that Nick could look at rings, and Blaine could mill around and see if anything caught his attention. Nick was having a hard time deciding – he didn't know whether gold or silver would be more appropriate; as gold was usually reserved for weddings but Valentine's Day itself seemed like an occasion for gold rather than silver, explaining that 'gold went better with red than silver' to a skeptical Blaine, who didn't think that the color of a ring would alter its significance in the slightest.

Westerville mall did have quite a few jewelry shops, however most of the shopkeepers were a little hesitant to serve Nick after they found out that he would be buying a ring for a _boy_, and so Nick was in a rather sour mood as they walked around, having exhausted all the jewelry shops.

'You'll find something, Nick,' Blaine assured him, 'it's probably right under our noses and we have no idea.'

That's when he spotted a little antique shop tucked away in a corner of the mall, and he was drawn to it immediately. Somehow, he thought that antiques held more significance than things that were new – the things in those shops were always loved and cherished and had a history behind it, so he insisted that Nick try and see if there were any rings inside of the shop while he browsed the shelves.

There was an array of random items cramped into the shops – old books and clocks and tea sets, none of which really appealed to Blaine, though he did find a nice looking romance novel he would give to his mother – he usually bought her flowers on Valentine's Day, and she would usually bake him something nice. With the book in hand, he passed through the aisles, not really finding anything appealing. It was all inappropriate for Valentine's Day – unless he was getting something for his grandmother, and he turned when he heard Nick begin to talk excitedly.

Which is when a little glint of silver caught his eye.

He turned back and saw a silver box sitting on a bottom shelf. It stood on four little clawed legs and the lid was smooth, engraved with intricate designs of birds and vines and flowers. He smiled and tucked his book under his arm so that he could pick the box up, and he turned it around in his hands, admiring the smooth, polished silver and the beautiful design. He opened the lid to find the inside lined with a deep royal purple, and he was shocked to hear a beautiful, haunting melody play from the box as the lid opened. He couldn't recognize the tune, but he fell in love instantly, and took it up to the counter, where Nick was already gushing over something he'd found.

'Blaine, look at this,' he grinned, showing Blaine a beautifully crafted silver ring. Much like the box, it was engraved with a beautiful design and held a square-cut diamond, flanked with two shining pale blue stones, 'it's perfect! Jeff's favorite color is blue and it's amazing and I want to get this for him so badly.'

Blaine grinned and then showed Nick the box he'd found, and Nick whistled appreciatively.

'That's beautiful, man,' he commented, 'and look; you could probably get the lid engraved with Kurt's name or something, and you could probably find a nice pair of cuff links or a locket to put inside for him.'

Blaine contemplated the idea; getting it engraved was a brilliant thought, as was putting something inside of it for Kurt to find.

'It plays music!' he told Nick excitedly, flipping the lid. The listened to the tune in an awed silence before Nick nodded.

'It's perfect,' he announced, 'go take it to that guy and I'm sure he can sort it out.'

Blaine saw a middle aged man standing by a cash register, flipping through the novel. Blaine approached him and gently set the box down.

'I was wondering if I would be able to get the box engraved.'

The man looked up and smiled at him.

'Certainly! That's a beautiful little piece; it's always been dear to me. No one else seems to have been interested in it though. Is this for your girlfriend for Valentine's Day?' the man asked, his eyes shining.

Blaine figured that he might as well tell the man the truth – Kurt wasn't exactly a female name, and seeing as the man would be engraving it, he may as well be honest. He felt a little apprehensive though – what if he refused to engrave it because it was for another boy.

'My boyfriend, actually,' Blaine corrected, and he felt his cheeks grow pink. The man beamed.

'Ooh, I got something like this for my partner years and years ago – he loved it! He still has it, it sits on our dresser and we keep all of our most precious pieces inside. Who's the lucky fellow?'

Blaine didn't think he'd ever smiled so widely in his life – he couldn't believe how lucky he was to have found such a beautiful piece in a shop owned by someone who knew exactly what he was going through. If Ohio was so homophobic now, he wouldn't imagine what it was like twenty years ago.

'Kurt Hummel,' Blaine replied proudly, 'actually, I'd like the lid to say _Kurt Hummel, mio tutto._'

'Is that… Italian?' the man asked, and Blaine nodded, smiling. The phrase meant 'my all', and Blaine felt pretty proud of himself for thinking of it – romance was never really his strong point; he had no one to be romantic towards and so he never really paid much attention to romance.

The man had him write it down and while he went to do the engraving, Blaine wandered back to Nick, who was still beside himself with the ring he'd found.

'Can you help me find something nice to put in the box?' he asked him, and Nick nodded, immediately dragging him over to the lockets and pendants.

'Now, I know you're not ready to give him a ring – trust me, it's a bigger deal than it seems, but that doesn't mean you can't give him something beautiful – look at this locket, for instance. It basically screams '_I love you_'.'

They looked over the necklaces before Blaine's eyes fell on one in the dead center of the bunch – it was a white gold, with a beautiful rose molded from gold on the lid of the locket. The side opposite to the rose was lined with tiny purple stones and it looked as though it would match the box he was getting. He pointed it out to Nick and they waited for the man to come back from engraving the box so that he could get it from the case for them.

When he did come back, Blaine almost hugged him. The engraving on the lid was absolutely flawless – it was centered perfectly and the script was curly and beautiful – and he'd even engraved a beautiful swirly heart underneath the writing.

'Thank you _so _much!' Blaine thanked him as the man handed him the box gently. He felt the sudden urge to cry – he knew Kurt would absolutely adore the box, 'and I'd like to get that locket, too – the one with the rose and the purple stones, the silver one.'

It was taken out and passed over to Blaine, who placed it gently in the box, the beautiful music playing once more.

'My, what a lucky boy,' the shopkeeper smiled as Blaine pulled his credit card out to pay for the gifts and the book for his mother, 'you're really spoiling him, aren't you?'

'Kurt's had it too hard in the past,' Blaine explained softly as he swiped his card and punched in the pin, 'and people have been making him feel useless for far too long. I wanted him to know that he's the most perfect boy I've ever met.'

Both Nick and the man smiled at that – Blaine was obviously devoted to Kurt. Nick paid for the ring, which the shopkeeper put in a lovely little velvet box for him, and they bid him a friendly before leaving the store.

'I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders,' Nick exhaled happily, looking at the box in his hands before slipping it into his bag, 'who knew I would find something so perfect there.'

'That man was so nice,' Blaine commented, 'I'm so glad I got Kurt something there. He was wonderful. Do you think there would be someone who would gift wrap this for us?'

They managed to find a stall which specialized in Valentine's Day gift wrapping – the mall was decked out fully in red and pink as people frantically tried to find their loved one's gifts. Surprisingly, the woman who wrapped the gifts didn't comment on the fact that a boy's name was on the lid of the box he handed her and she wrapped it flawlessly, placing it in a white box, with white wrapping paper around it, tying it off with a ribbon of deep red. She smiled at them and wished them a happy Valentine's Day, and they wished her the same, and they were off.

Nick and Blaine said their goodbyes in the parking lot, making promises to see each other soon, hopefully with all of the Warblers this time, and Blaine got in his car and started to drive home, the beautiful gift on the seat next to him.

He couldn't wait to give Kurt his gift – it was perfect and he was really proud of it. He wondered what Kurt had got him? Honestly, he wouldn't care if Kurt didn't give him anything at all. His presence was more than enough to make his Valentine's Day perfect.


	23. Chapter 23

Blaine knocked on Kurt's door at exactly six on Tuesday evening, smoothing the front of his dress shirt while he waited for the door to be answered. It was Valentine's Day, and he was feeling nervous beyond comprehension – he wanted his night to with Kurt to go perfectly.

He'd texted Kurt earlier and told him that he had to dress formally; Blaine himself was wearing his finest tailored suit, one which he had worn to countless formal Dalton events, and made him look rather dapper. His hair was gelled down and he was clean-shaved and had remembered to wear his best cologne – he actually thought he looked rather presentable and he hoped Kurt would approve, too.

The door was opened, but not by Kurt. Burt Hummel stood there, eyeing Blaine as though he'd showed up on his doorstep and had pointed a gun at him.

Blaine practically cowered under the stare and after a few moments Burt's face relaxed and he stepped back.

'You look good, kid,' he told him, and Blaine took that as a sign that he could come in, 'Kurt's still getting ready downstairs. Finn's in the living room waiting for Rachel.'

Blaine hesitantly followed Burt into the living room where he saw Finn, also dressed up, looking about as nervous as Blaine felt.

'Hey man,' Finn shot him a smile when he saw him, 'come sit with me. I don't think I've ever felt this nervous in my life.'

Blaine sat next to him and Burt sat in his armchair, looking at them both intently. After a while, Blaine and Finn began to fidget, growing visibly uncomfortable and Burt leaned back in his chair.

'So, Blaine,' he started and Blaine sat up a little straighter, 'where are you planning on taking my boy tonight?'

Blaine cleared his throat and played with the cuff of his suit, 'um, there's a French restaurant a little out of Lima – it's called _Maison des Reves,_ I heard it's really nice.'

'Dude, isn't that place like, super expensive?' Finn asked, shooting him a confused glance – he was only taking Rachel to Breadstix.

'He deserves the best,' Blaine replied, a little smile tugging at his lips. He noticed Burt smile softly and couldn't help but think that he'd scored a point with him.

There was a knock on the door then and Finn got up, mumbling something about Rachel, which left Burt and Blaine alone in the room together.

'You know, I'm glad you're doing this for him,' Burt told him suddenly. Blaine looked at him, confused, and he elaborated, 'no one has ever gone to this much trouble for him before, and I'm glad he's found someone like you.'

Blaine had to smile at that, and Burt nodded once, just as there were sounds of footsteps on the stairs. Blaine turned and a moment later Kurt appeared in the doorway, and Blaine's breath caught in his throat.

He was dressed in a simple black suit, with a white dress shirt and a beautiful pale blue silk tie that made his eyes stand out beautifully. Blaine found himself standing up subconsciously.

'You're so beautiful,' he breathed, and Kurt's face split into a radiant smile.

'Alright, I'm just going to leave you two…' Burt announced, standing awkwardly, 'take care of my son, Blaine.'

But Kurt and Blaine were simply staring at each other, at a loss for words and didn't even notice you leave.

'You look incredible, Blaine,' Kurt told him softly, reaching out to take his hand. Blaine clasped it firmly within his and brought it up to place it over his heart, which was beating rapidly.

'You are breathtaking,' he replied, and then leaned in to kiss him gently. A moment later, he could see a flash erupt in front of his eyes and he pulled away from Kurt only to see Carole standing in the room, camera in hand, looking sheepish.

'I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself!' she apologized, her cheeks pink, 'but you two look so cute together!'

Kurt rolled his eyes and she left the room, the camera swinging from her hand.

'Why do I feel like we're not going to get any time alone while we're here?' he muttered, leading Blaine towards the front door.

'Then we should probably go,' Blaine reasoned, 'our reservation is at seven and we still have to drive there…'

Kurt nodded and kissed him on the cheek quickly.

'Happy Valentine's Day, by the way.'

Blaine pulled him in and kissed him properly.

'Happy Valentine's Day,' he murmured against his lips before pulling the front door open. Kurt called a quick goodbye to his parents and they stepped outside, the air still a little chilly and walked to Blaine's car. Blaine, feeling rather gentlemanly, opened Kurt's side for him and Kurt kissed him on the cheek quickly, laughing softly, as he sat in the car.

Once Blaine was in the car, he reached over to the back seat and picked up a single red rose and gave it to Kurt, who immediately blushed.

'Oh, you shouldn't have,' he breathed, closing his eyes and smelling the rose. Blaine bit his lip and shrugged.

'I wanted to,' he told him softly, 'because I love you.'

Kurt kissed him then with such passion it left him a little breathless. He smiled at him and started the car and their drive began.

Some of it was spent singing, some talking idly, but most of it was spent in a blissful silence, each enjoying the other's company.

When Blaine pulled up in front of the restaurant, his eyes went wide.

'You're _kidding_!' he exclaimed as they slipped out of the car. He looked at Blaine incredulously, 'Blaine, this place is _amazing_ – how much are you planning on spending on me tonight?'

Blaine simply smiled at him, 'shush, Kurt. Tonight is all about spoiling you, and that means the best French restaurant in Ohio.'

Kurt kissed him, the smile never leaving his face, and they walked into the restaurant hand in hand.

'I have a reservation for two under Anderson,' Blaine told the maitre d', who quickly checked the log book and gave them a suave smile.

'After me, Mr. Anderson,' he replied with a light French accent, leading them over to a table that was partially out of view, though it had a nice view of the rest of the restaurant and wasn't too far away from the stringed orchestra. It was an amazing table and Blaine had to offer up some cash in order to get it on such a special night, but he didn't mind at all. He pulled out Kurt's chair for him before sitting in his own and the two simply stared at each other, smiling softly.

'I can't believe this is happening,' Kurt admitted, ducking his head bashfully, 'I mean, never in my life would I have thought that a beautiful boy would be taking me to an expensive restaurant on Valentine's Day.'

'And I never thought I'd have anyone to spoil like this,' Blaine replied, reaching over the table to place his hand over Kurt's, 'you don't know how glad I am that I can do this.'

'Oh, dinner is more than enough, so if you have anything else planned, forget about it.'

'I bought you a present,' Blaine smiled, 'and it's an amazing present, if I do say so myself and I can't wait for you to see it.'

Kurt smiled at that and they were approached by the waiter.

'Have you two gentlemen decided on your meal yet?' he asked, tapping his pen against his pad of paper. Blaine's eyes flicked downwards to his neglected menu and he scanned it quickly.

He didn't really understand the menu – it was in French – so he looked helplessly at Kurt, who rolled his eyes at him and ordered something for the both of them. The waiter left them then and Blaine skirted his chair around the little round table so that he could press a kiss to Kurt's cheek.

They talked for a while more, hands still joined, before their meals arrived.

'Um, what is this?' Blaine asked as the meal was set in front of him. From what he could see, it was some form of meat and then a sauce and god knows what else. It looked as though it would only take a few mouthfuls to eat the whole thing and his pockets suddenly felt a little lighter.

'It's duck,' Kurt replied happily, picking up his knife and fork, 'with orange sauce and potato and leek mash and these are roasted baby carrots in a honey glaze.'

Honestly, Blaine could have done with a huge steak and some chips, but if this is what Kurt wanted to eat, he would eat it. It tasted good though, and he found himself savoring each bite as he chewed. Kurt smiled at him, seeing he was enjoying his food, and kissed him on the cheek.

At that moment a man with a violin sauntered past their table and saw Kurt kiss Blaine. He smiled and stopped, gesturing to them with his bow before launching into an absolutely beautiful melody.

Kurt gasped with a sort of pleased surprise and he took Blaine's hand, listening intently to the man with a broad smile on his face. Blaine felt a rush of gratitude for the man – he obviously wasn't bothered that they were on a date, and if anything, it made their meal ten times more romantic. The man finished his song and winked at them both, the restaurant bursting into a polite applause – Kurt's more enthusiastic than the rest – and continued walking through the restaurant.

'That was beautiful,' Kurt commented softly, staring after the man in awe.

'No,' Blaine corrected, kissing him lightly, 'you're beautiful.'

Kurt blushed then and they turned back to their meals, a comfortable silence settling over them.

'Do you want desert here or at home?' Blaine asked, and then caught himself as he realised how suggestive the offer sounded. Kurt seemed to notice and he raised his eyebrows, smirking lightly.

'At home, I think' he replied, and then gestured for the waiter, 'dinner's on me.'

But as he pulled his wallet out, Blaine had already thrown a couple of bills on the table and had stood up and practically dragged Kurt away from the table and outside.

Kurt opened his mouth to protest but whatever he was about to say was muffled by Blaine's lips crashing against his, pulling him in for a heated kiss. Kurt kissed back for a few moments before pulling away and winking, taking Blaine's hand and leading him to the car.

'Now for the fun part of Valentine's Day, am I right?' he smirked as Blaine unlocked the car, his hands suddenly feeling a little sweaty. He hadn't expected much from Kurt tonight – perhaps a bit of kissing, but he didn't think they would be going as far as they did on New Year's. But the way Kurt looked tonight – the way he was looking at Blaine; he suddenly didn't know what would happen when they got home.

He barely remembered the drive home; all he could focus on was how aware he was of Kurt's hand on his knee, his thumb rubbing circles which sent jolts up his body. He probably drove quicker than he should have, but they made it home in one piece and he parked quickly, barely remembering to lock his car before fumbling in his pocket for his house key.

The front door was almost wrenched off its hinges by the time he'd managed to open it and Blaine couldn't even remember when things had actually gotten so heated between them. He remembered a simple kiss outside the restaurant but apparently that was more than enough to set them both off. Kurt began to kiss his neck but he pushed him away gently.

'The night is young,' he reminded him, 'and I still have to give you your present.'

Kurt nodded, though Blaine could see that his boyfriend wanted to continue where they had left off, and allowed Blaine to take his hand and lead him upstairs to his bedroom where the present lay waiting.

Kurt sat down on his bed while Blaine went to his desk to retrieve the present, still wrapped beautifully and untouched since he'd bought it.

'I'll give you your present tomorrow,' Kurt told him as Blaine turned back towards him, 'I mean, I kind of forgot it in the rush to leave.'

Blaine simply smiled softly and nodded, sitting down next to Kurt and giving him the gift, feeling suddenly nervous. He'd been so sure that Kurt would like it but what if he didn't? What if he thought it was tacky and broke up with Blaine for being so thoughtless?

But he could hear the sound of paper being torn and was forced to watch as Kurt opened the lid of the box the little musical box was in, and when he pulled it out, his mouth dropped open ever so slightly. He ran his fingers along the engraving and Blaine merely watched in silence as he turned the box around in his hands, his eyes never leaving it. Then he lifted the lid and the beautiful, haunting song filled the silence and he pulled out the locket and it spun from his hand. He didn't speak and Blaine was too scared to say anything, but Kurt eventually put the locket back in the box, closed the lid and set it on the bedside table wordlessly before turning to Blaine.

And then he kissed him with a passion Blaine had never felt from him before – he could feel Kurt's hands begin to tangle in his hair and he pulled him closer, pressing himself into the kiss as though it were the oxygen he needed to breathe.

'Thank you so much,' Kurt breathed, pulling away just far enough to speak, 'thank you so, so much.'

He was crying, the tears falling fast and heavy down his face. Blaine simply wrapped his arms around him and held him close to him, rocking them back and forward slightly.

'I'm glad you like it.'

'I love it!' Kurt told him, wiping his eyes and smiling brightly, 'you are the most thoughtful,' he paused to kiss Blaine, 'amazing,' another kiss, 'beautiful,' yet another kiss, 'wonderful, selfless, kindest boy I have ever met.'

He kissed him properly then and Blaine found himself being pushed backwards, his suit jacket being slipped from his shoulders as Kurt continued to kiss him.

'Perhaps – perhaps we should go downstairs… have some ice cream?' Blaine suggested, wanting to wait a little more before anything serious happened. He began to feel butterflies flutter around wildly in his stomach as Kurt shot him a hungry look.

'No,' he replied, 'I just want to stay with you. Right here. Forever.'

And he was kissing Blaine again and Blaine lost himself in the kiss, his own hands moving to take Kurt's jacket off. He tossed the jacket on the floor where it was soon joined by his own, and he flipped them so that now he was straddling Kurt, kissing him deeply, his hands running over every part of Kurt he could reach.

Kurt's fingers moved to work on the buttons of his shirt and Blaine felt heat beginning to coil in his stomach. He tugged the shirt off impatiently before starting on Kurt's, the kiss never breaking, becoming more frantic as their need increased. Kurt tugged on his hair and he felt himself moan into the boy's mouth, rolling his hips against Kurt's and relishing the friction it produced. Kurt pulled him closer and their hips began to move of their own accord, Blaine working on the buttons of Kurt's shirt, which he then removed and threw onto the floor.

Shoes and socks were kicked off but it wasn't enough. He felt Kurt tug at the belt on his pants and he bit back a moan.

'Too much clothes…' he heard Kurt mutter as the belt was wrenched from his pants. A moment later, the button was undone and the zip was being pulled down, and he felt his breathing begin to pick up. Every touch burned, every kiss made his head swim with pure undiluted lust and he kicked his pants off, climbing back on top of Kurt and kissing him hungrily.

And then Kurt was taking his own pants off, a growl tearing from his throat as he moved to kiss and lick his way down Blaine's neck, rolling them over so that he was on top, his hands raking down Blaine's body, leaving angry red marks. Blaine moaned at the sensation; the pain mixed with absolute pleasure, and he ran his hands over Kurt's back and down the backs of his thighs, the skin like porcelain beneath his fingers.

Their movements were becoming more primal and daring, their hands skirting places they'd only ever dreamed of touching, and pretty soon Kurt had hooked his fingers on the waistband of Blaine's briefs, pulling them down slowly. The kissing had stopped then and they held eye contact – a burning, needy gaze, the silence in the air punctuated only by the sounds of their ragged breathing.

But suddenly Kurt sat back, his cheeks pink and his eyes beginning to brim with tears. It was so unexpected, and Blaine sat up quickly.

'Kurt, what's the matter?'

Kurt shook his head and a tear slipped down his cheek. Blaine knew what it was – he was sober now, not under the influence of anything, the alcohol not giving him any false courage that he knew they would both lack when they were faced with this exact situation when they were both in the right state of mind.

'I-I'm sorry,' Kurt stammered, sounding apologetic and heartbroken, 'I - I just don't think I'm ready for this yet. I mean, I was d-drunk on New Year's. It's not that I don't want you, Blaine. I just –'

'Kurt,' Blaine took his hand and squeezed it gently, smiling softly, 'I'm not dating you for the physical side of things, okay? I'm dating you because I'm so in love with you and I wouldn't know what to do without you. If you're not ready, neither am I. I respect that, okay? Don't feel like you have to do anything with me because you don't.'

Kurt nodded tearfully and wrapped his arms around Blaine, who kissed the top of his head, rubbing his back soothingly.

'I love you, Blaine,' Kurt mumbled into his chest, 'I love you so much.'

'I love you too, baby,' Blaine replied softly, pressing another soft kiss into his hair, 'I'll love you no matter what happens, okay?'

'You're not disappointed?' Kurt asked, drawing back and looking at him suspiciously. Blaine shook his head instantly.

'You mean so much more to me than – than _that_,' he assured him, 'you are my heart and my soul and I just want you to be happy, okay baby?'

Kurt nodded and kissed him softly and Blaine pulled him into his arms again, holding him tight.

He didn't need to go any further than this with Kurt – the way his stomach churned happily and his heart thudded was the best feeling he could ever experience, and he would never be able to get enough of it.

They spent the rest of the evening talking and cuddling, kissing each other slowly and lovingly. By the time they fell asleep, the earlier incident had been all but forgotten, and they settled down in each other's arms.

'Hang on,' Kurt smiled suddenly, and reached out to flip the lid of his music box, the soft melody filling the air.

They fell asleep soon after, the music lulling them both into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Bit of an awful chapter, but it's actually 5 am exactly and I haven't slept. Woo! <strong>


	24. Chapter 24

When Blaine woke up the next morning, he found that his airways were obstructed completely.

It wasn't unusual for him – he'd always had problems with stress before fights, and seeing as he usually bottled his feelings up, he would repress any negativity and it would come back to haunt him at a later date. Blaine shot up in bed and tried to take a deep breath, but it seemed to catch in his throat, and that's when he began to panic.

He could feel himself start to hyperventilate, his hands beginning to shake as he brought them to his chest. A shock of heat ran through him and he choked, coughing violently yet trying to breathe at the same time. The ruckus woke Kurt, who sat up quickly and paled considerably at the sight of his panicking boyfriend.

'Blaine? Blaine! Are you – oh my goodness!' Kurt bit his lip, feeling a wave of fear wash through him. He took Blaine's hand and squeezed it gently, 'breathe, Blaine, okay? Just breathe, baby. It's okay.'

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, his hands now shaking violently. The more he panicked, the harder it was to calm down. He could feel himself starting to sweat.

He felt Kurt press a kiss to his temple, stroking his hair soothingly. He took a deep breath and felt a little relief flood through him. He would be okay.

But his heart was still thudding painfully in his chest and his eyes were beginning to water from the lack of oxygen. He felt another kiss on his temple and then Kurt's voice.

'Just breathe, Blaine, and focus on my voice,' he murmured against his skin, 'breathe. In and out, sweetie.'

His voice was like a life raft and Blaine tried to follow his instructions as best as he could, but his breath was still coming raggedly. To his surprise then, Kurt began to sing the song that he had sung for him on the phone that one night; he didn't think he would even remember it. The fact that he was hearing something so familiar from such an important person, who was still stroking his hair, sending small chills down his spin, made relief and comfort burn through him like a fire, and by the time Kurt was finished with the song, his breathing was almost back to normal.

But as his breathing became regular, tears began to well up in his eyes. Of course he would embarrass himself like this – this was the second panic attack he'd had around Kurt, far worse than the first. He must have scared him half to death – what if Kurt didn't want to be with him anymore? It was a terrifying thing to deal with, and Blaine knew that they would only be getting worse from then on.

'Are you okay, baby?' Kurt asked gently, kissing his cheek. Blaine nodded jerkily, tears beginning to spill down his face. Kurt noticed and he frowned softly, 'what's wrong, sweetie?'

'I probably look so stupid,' Blaine muttered, wiping his tears away, feeling beyond annoyed at himself, 'I can't imagine how hard it was for you to wake up to something like that. You shouldn't have to deal with that.'

He expected Kurt to agree with him, but he merely smiled softly.

'I love dealing with things like this,' he told him, kissing him softly, 'because I love _you_, and all the baggage you come with. Sure, it's scary, and I was worried – but only because I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you.'

'You shouldn't have to deal with it,' Blaine repeated resolutely, refusing to look up at Kurt. He felt his chin being lifted gently and he found himself staring into Kurt's beautiful, clear eyes.

'I love you,' he told him firmly, 'I love you so much. I don't care what's wrong with you – you fixed me. I want to fix you, too.'

He kissed Blaine softly and he found himself unable to pull away, kissing Kurt more firmly.

'Come on, I'll make you breakfast before we have to go to school,' Kurt smiled, pulling away from Blaine and going into the bathroom. Blaine smiled at his retreating figure, and though he still felt a little on edge, couldn't help but feel a little lighter.

* * *

><p>School passed slowly that day, seeing as he didn't see much of Kurt and spent the day missing him completely. He was bored in all his lessons; the minutes seemed to drag on as though hours were passing. He had training in Westerville that afternoon and was not looking forward to spending it with Aloysius.<p>

But when he arrived at the gym, he found it was closed, which was strange – why wouldn't Martin text him beforehand. He got out of his car anyway and tried the door and found it was unlocked, even though all the lights were off inside. Curious, he pushed the door open and went inside tentatively.

'Hello?' he called, looking around, feeling suddenly cold inside. He saw a light coming from Martin's office and he walked over slowly, pushing the door open fully.

Martin sat at his desk, head in his hands, stacks of papers around him. He didn't look up when Blaine walked in and he immediately felt concerned.

'Martin, what's wrong?' he asked slowly, his hand still on the door handle. Martin lifted his head to look up at Blaine, his eyes rimmed red.

'They're taking the gym.'

'What?' Blaine exploded incredulously, his mouth dropping open, 'who's taking it? They can't do this to you! It's _yours_.'

'Apparently it's not,' Martin replied hoarsely, his voice thick with tears, 'my – my mum, you know how I hate her, right?'

'Right.'

'Well, I somehow hate her even more. See, she and my dad got divorced and he left me the gym when I was old enough to run it,' Martin explained, wiping his eyes, but the tears kept flowing, 'but he died a few years later and he apparently didn't change his will after he and my mum got divorced. The will that leaves her _everything_. Including the gym.'

'She can't do that though!' Blaine protested, sitting in a chair opposite to Martin's, 'I mean, you've taken care of this gym for so long – you built it into the best gym Westerville has ever seen! She can't just take it from you – what's she going to do with it? She'll ruin it!'

'She's going to sell it,' Martin told him weakly, sniffing, 'god, I feel like such a dick, crying like this. But she wants to sell it.'

'What a bitch!' Blaine exclaimed, and then looked sheepish, 'um, sorry.'

'No, no, by all means insult her,' Martin replied, 'she's a horrible, horrible woman. She's taking away my life – this gym is _everything _to me.'

'She can't do this, Martin. We have to get it back.' Blaine told him resolutely, 'no matter what the cost. She can't take this away from you.'

'How am I meant to pay off my house?' Martin asked weakly, dropping his head in his arms, 'I don't have another job. I won't be able to pay the rent, the bills. Nothing.'

'You'll stay with us, of course,' Blaine replied, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world, 'and mum and I will do our best to help you get this back.'

There was a knock at the door then, though it was already open. Martin lifted his head and Blaine turned his to see who was standing at the door.

A woman with obviously dyed hair dark hair and pale skin stood at the door, dressed in a sharp looking suit. She wore a smirk – one which Blaine recognized but couldn't identity.

'Hello, darling,' she cooed at Martin, whose face fell flat immediately.

'Mother.'

Blaine had never met Martin's mother before, but she didn't look like a very pleasant woman. Considering that she wanted to take the gym from Martin, he automatically hated her. His expression too fell into a glare.

'Sweetheart, why the curt tone?' Martin's mother asked sweetly, 'after all, I am your mother and we are in a business arrangement.'

'You're no mother of mine,' Martin shot, folding his arms over his chest, 'a mother wouldn't do this.'

'I don't see why you're getting so worked up over a gym, honey,' his mother commented, stepping into his office and running her hand lightly along a bookcase, 'I mean, it is just a gym.'

'This gym means everything to Martin,' Blaine informed her sharply, 'this is his source of income, and this is his home.'

'And who might you be?' she asked with a tone of mock politeness. Blaine's eyes narrowed.

'Blaine Anderson,' he replied, 'I've been coming to this gym my whole life.'

'Ah. Well you see, Blaine, this is a business opportunity for me and my new husband and I –'

'You're married?' Martin asked incredulously, 'you're married and you didn't tell me?'

'Shows how much you keep in touch,' his mother remarked with a wink, 'I've been married for almost five years now. It's a good thing I uncovered your father's will before it was too late.'

'He wanted me to have it,' Martin told her darkly, 'he gave it to me the second I graduated.'

'Ah, but that doesn't mean it's _yours_,' his mother replied, smirking, 'by law, it's mine. I'm going to sell it.'

Martin stood and slammed his hands against the table.

'I'm not going to let you get away with his!' he shouted, temper finally boiling over, 'this is _my_ gym and you are _not _going to sell it.'

'We'll have to see about that,' she replied smoothly, winking a final time and leaving the office.

She shut the door behind her and Martin let out a breath he didn't even know he had been holding. He sat back down in his seat shakily, feeling as though someone had wrenched the floor from beneath his feet.

'I'm so sorry, Martin,' Blaine breathed, feeling tears welling up in his own eyes. Of course, he would still go to the gym if it was sold – it was his home away from home, too, but this was unacceptable. He couldn't imagine his mother doing this to him and he felt a sudden rush of sympathy towards Martin.

'I'm losing my home,' he sniffed, wiping at his eyes. He looked up at Blaine, 'I'm losing it all.'

Blaine bit his lip, his heart feeling as though it had been ripped from his chest. He didn't know what to do or to say.

'When – when does it say you have to hand the keys over?' Blaine asked, his voice suddenly shaky.

'Tomorrow.' Martin sighed, shuffling through a stack of papers, 'she'll apparently be running the gym as normal until – until someone is interested enough to buy it.'

'What about training?' Blaine asked softly – losing the gym this close to the fight would be a devastating loss to him. His chances of winning would be lowered dramatically and he felt a rush of hatred for the woman – she was ruining both their lives by doing this.

'You're still training here,' Martin told him firmly, 'and I'm still training you. I – I might not own the gym anymore, but we're still going to be using it.'

Blaine nodded hesitantly – he didn't think Martin being in the gym would do much for his mood, but he didn't want to train anywhere else – the Lima gym, while decent, didn't have any place to fight and going to another gym in Westerville would feel traitorous.

'Why don't you come back to my house for dinner?' Blaine suggested, and Martin gave him a half smile, 'I mean, it would take your mind off of things, at least. Mum would be able to… help.'

Martin nodded slowly and Blaine smiled at him, but his mind was buzzing. He had to figure out a way to get the gym back – he couldn't have Martin lose everything that he loved. He obviously didn't have the money to afford it, but then again, maybe his mother could buy it and they could give it to Martin – or he could get a loan and buy it himself. He knew that buying a gym for someone was a little unrealistic, but Martin was as good as family to him and he needed him to be happy.

He also had no idea how much gyms cost but he made a note to find out. He was going to help Martin however he could.

* * *

><p>'Alright, Blaine, last ten seconds, give me a hundred per cent!'<p>

Blaine gritted his teeth and pulled on the handle of the rowing machine, his arms beginning to shake, his whole body burning with exhaustion. He went flat out while Martin counted down, feeling as though his arms would surely drop off at any given moment. As soon as Martin reached zero on his countdown, he dropped the handle and groaned loudly.

'I am going to _die_,' he moaned, his arms hanging limply by his side.

It was Thursday afternoon and the gym was running normally. Well, as normally as it could without Martin running it.

His face had fallen as soon as they'd walked into the gym and Blaine saw how he looked around wistfully, his eyes shining. Now Martin was apparently taking his frustrations out on Blaine, making him train longer and harder than he ever had before.

'Quickly, to the bags now,' Martin ordered, already making his way there. Blaine stood on weak legs and followed him, cursing the pain in his body. He started working on the bag, seriously pushing himself – the pain would be worth it in the cage, this he knew well – before they were both approached by Martin's mother.

She was wearing a tasteful pumpkin colored suit today and she wore the same evil, nasty smirk as the day before.

'Excuse me, but what are you doing?' she asked them, her tone sugary. Blaine dropped his hand – he'd gone to unleash a powerful punch on the bag – and turned to her, confused.

'Um, I'm training.' he replied, 'what, am I not allowed to do that now?'

'I went through the records and found that you have never once paid for this gym's facilities,' she informed him, her voice now sharp.

'So what?' Blaine retorted, 'the _old_ owner of the gym didn't see it was necessary to make me pay.'

'Well, we're under new management now,' she told him, smiling sweetly, 'so pay or get out.'

Blaine gaped at her, shocked. Martin hadn't even considered charging him or his father for their use of the gym and now he was expected to pay upfront.

'How much?' he grunted, beginning to take his gloves off so that he could go to his wallet.

'Fifty dollars for today will suffice.'

'Fifty!' he exclaimed, outraged, 'what is wrong with you?'

'You're lucky I'm not charging you more, Blaine, the amount you've used my gym before.'

'It wasn't _yours_.'

'But it is now.' another smirk, 'and I'm not kidding. I'll be waiting.'

Blaine grudgingly went into the changing room to retrieve the money, grumbling under his breath all the way. Who did she think she was, making him pay such an obscene amount of a few hours of training? He couldn't believe anyone could be so nasty.

He made it back to Martin and his mother, who were simply standing in silence, although Martin was glaring at her ferociously. She smiled at Blaine as he approached.

'Here,' he shot, thrusting the money in her direction, 'now go away, I have a fight to train for.'

She made a satisfied sound and stuffed the money into her pocket, sauntering away. When she had disappeared into the office, Martin hurled a punch at the bad, sending it swinging wildly. It was obvious why he was a champion in his days.

'I _hate_ her!' he shouted, earning a curious glance from some of the gym's patrons, 'I absolutely _despise _her – how could she do this to me?'

Blaine simply shook his head – he didn't know, really – and resumed his work on the bag. He couldn't let the drama of the situation distract him from training.

Martin grew visibly restless as Blaine continued to train and Blaine stopped his punching, holding the swinging bag still with his hand.

'Do you want to spar?' he asked, 'you're obviously in the mood to fight.'

'I don't think that's a good idea,' Martin replied sheepishly, 'I don't think I'll be able to restrain myself.'

'Whatever just go crazy,' Blaine smiled, 'I could use a good fight, to be honest.'

They headed over to one of the cages, which had two young boys fighting inside. Martin looked at them fondly – the boys were twins and came here with their father, who was rather serious about his training. He usually let them borrow equipment and knock each other around, which looked comical with their oversized gloves. Now though, they were simply wrestling on the ground, shouting and squealing with excitement.

'Hey guys,' Martin called, and the two separated, 'do you think Blaine and I could use this cage?'

The two looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding at the same time.

'We have to go soon anyway,' one chirped, smiling, 'our sister is coming to pick us up.'

'Yeah, we're going to mum's tonight!' the other told them, also smiling, 'dad has to go on a business trip so it's our last trip to the gym for a while!'

'Oh? I'm sorry to hear that,' Martin replied, 'we're going to miss you around here.'

'We'll come back, we promise!' the first one assured him, stepping out of the cage, 'oh look, Maddy's here!'

Martin and Blaine turned to the entrance of the gym, and to his surprise, Madison – the girl from the coffee shop – was walking towards them, having spotter her brother.

'Oh, thank you for looking after them, I daresay dad's too busy to do it while he trains,' she thanked them absently, not really looking at them, 'I'm sorry I'm a bit – oh, Blaine, hi!'

Blaine grinned at her and she embraced him for a moment.

'I haven't seen you at the Bean lately, you haven't found somewhere better, have you?' she teased, tousling one of her brother's hair.

'I've been a little busy lately,' Blaine replied honestly, 'but I'm so glad to see you. How have you been?'

'Oh, good, you know. Work and the boys keep me busy,' she replied, smiling lightly, 'where's Kurt? Doesn't he come here too?'

'No, not today. When he does, he doesn't usually train, that's my job.' Blaine laughed.

'Oh, why do you train?'

He realized that he hadn't told Madison about his fighting, so he explained quickly.

'Oh, that's so cool!' she gushed, 'dad used to fight when he was younger, I'm pretty familiar with all the rules and stuff.'

Blaine was suddenly struck with a thought and he smiled, 'do you want to come to my title fight? It's next month!'

Her eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly and they began to discuss the details of the fight. They talked for a little while before one of the boys tugged on Madison's sleeve.

'I'm hungry,' he whined, 'I wanna eat.'

She laughed and then looked at Blaine apologetically, 'I'm sorry, I have to tend to these two.'

Blaine nodded.

'I understand,' he smiled, 'it was really nice to see you, Madison.'

She kissed him on the cheek and gave him another hug.

'You too, Blaine. You and Kurt should come to the Bean soon so I can shout you both a coffee and a muffin. I'll see you around.' she told him, grinning, and then turned to Martin and added, 'bye, sir! Thank for watching the boys.'

Martin smiled at her and she left.

'Who's that?' he asked after she was gone. Blaine smiled.

'That's Madison,' he replied, 'she gives us free coffee and stuff at the Lima Bean because we're apparently the nicest customers she gets. We talk to her when we go there and I guess she's a pretty good friend now.'

Martin nodded and then looked pointedly at the cage, which they entered. They touched gloves briefly and then Blaine realized exactly how angry Martin was.

_Wham._

The first blow nearly knocked him off his feet and he shook his head to clear the fuzziness the hit had brought on. He brought his guard up quickly and dodged another hit, but landed a kick of his own to Martin's ribs.

Martin's eyes flashed then and Blaine felt rather intimidated – he'd seem Martin fight seriously when he was younger and he was in awe of him; now he was terrified – he didn't want to be on the receiving end of Martin's rage.

Martin launched a barrage of vicious punches then, and Blaine couldn't do much other than raise his guard and take the hits. His head was beginning to swim – this didn't feel like a spar at all; it felt like Martin was attacking him.

He got a few punches in after that, but it was obvious that he couldn't do anything against Martin. He was too experienced and far too strong.

_Whack_.

He landed a kick to his head and Blaine found himself stumbling backwards into the wall of the cage, his vision blurring slightly. He would have thought that Martin would have had the sense to stop the fight then – he was obviously hurt – but he simply punched him in the ribs and Blaine gasped.

He was getting his ass handed to him – his head was searing with pain and his breath was leaving his body with each hit. Then Martin landed a solid hit to his head and white spots exploded in front of Blaine's eyes, and he found himself gripping the cage for balance.

'Stop!' he shouted, pushing Martin off of him, 'what is _wrong _with you?'

He began to walk unsteadily but only made it about halfway to the exit of the cage before a wave of dizziness washed over him and he fell to the floor. He grabbed his head, feeling suddenly nauseous, and squeezed his eyes shut.

He could hear Martin curse from behind him and a moment later he dropped next to Blaine.

'Blaine, can you hear me?' he asked, sighing in relief when Blaine nodded weakly, 'oh god, I'm so sorry. I was angry, I shouldn't have fought you. Shit, you could be seriously hurt.'

'I've had worse,' Blaine reminded him, a hint of a groan in his voice. He looked up and glared at Martin, 'what the fuck, man? We're sparring, not brawling.'

'I know,' Martin groaned, falling back against the cage floor, 'I'm just so _angry_, Blaine.'

'Now you know how I've felt since dad died.' Blaine remarked, dropping his head back into his hands.

Martin sat back up and rubbed Blaine's back, 'I get it, Blaine. We were all upset.'

Blaine lifted his head from his hands and shook it experimentally, feeling the dizziness subside a little. He got to his feet, no longer shaky, and offered Martin a hand to pull him up.

But as he did, his head throbbed painfully and he overbalanced, falling over and landing next to Martin, who laughed at him.

'Ouch.' Blaine muttered against the floor. Martin pushed him so that he rolled onto his back and the two simply sat in the cage for a while in silence.

'Martin?' Blaine spoke up after a while, 'what are we going to do about the gym?'

'I'm not giving up without a fight,' Martin assured him firmly, 'this place means the world to me and I'm not allowing us to lose it.'

Blaine sat up and wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knees, 'it's been a tough year, when you look at it.'

Martin nodded, recalling the events of the past year and how they had changed their lives forever.

'At least we grew from them,' he remarked, 'I mean, we're both bigger, better people now. Especially you, Blaine.'

'Thanks to you.' Blaine smiled, glancing at Martin, 'we're going to get through this, you know? We're going to get your gym back and I'm going to win my fight and everything is going to be okay. We'll get our lives back on track, I promise.'


	25. Chapter 25

Martin's presence around the Anderson home became more pronounced as the day went on. Blaine was getting used to seeing him in the kitchen before he went to school and coming home to him watching old fights on the television when he came back. He knew Martin was now trying to find a new job; but with no work experience other than running a gym, he was having trouble finding something that paid enough. For now, he would be living with Blaine and his mother, which was completely fine by them – if they had it their way, he'd never have to move out.

But Blaine could see that the boredom and the stress was affecting him; he was fidgeting nonstop and he was constantly on edge. The first night he'd stayed with them, Blaine could hear him crying from the guest room across the hall. He'd wanted to go and comfort him but figured that he could use some time alone – he didn't want to embarrass him.

Though however badly Blaine wanted to help Martin, he couldn't. Not right now. It pained him to be so selfish but two weeks until his championship fight, he had no choice but to completely focus on his training and himself.

His trainings grew more and more intense; he was pushing himself to limits he thought he'd never reach and he was devoted entirely to the gym and his diet. This, of course, meant he would have to neglect Kurt a little until after the fight – honestly, he was missing his boyfriend very much but he couldn't use distractions right now. He'd sat Kurt down and explained what was happening and that their relationship would be a little distant in the weeks coming up to the fight, and to his surprise, Kurt understood completely. He knew that this championship meant everything to Blaine and wasn't about to get in the way of succeeding.

To say that Blaine was nervous about the fight would be a blatant lie – he was terrified. The panic attacks were becoming more and more frequent, and also increasing in severity. He'd even had one at school in the middle of his Politics and Law class, which embarrassed him to no end and also successfully terrified his entire class.

But despite the nerves, Blaine was determined to win the fight.

This wasn't simply the Ohio state championships; no. This was the _national _junior featherweight championship.

He'd travelled around the country for various fights, but it all led up to this event. It was to be held a few hours out of Westerville and it was going to be _televised. _The publicity would be huge whether he won or not; but if he did win, who knows where his career could go? He could be picked up by god knows what kind of huge sponsors; he could even go _professional_. His dream was the Ultimate Fighting Championship, the largest mixed martial arts company in the _world_. The best of the best fought in the octagon there, and that was where Blaine wanted to go.

He had just come back from the gym, hair still wet from his shower, and he walked straight up into his bedroom, too exhausted to even say hello to his mother, who was making dinner. He trudged upstairs, barely able to lift his feet, and all but stumbled into his bedroom before falling face first onto his bed.

'Rough day?'

Blaine sat up quickly, almost jumping out of his skin at the sound of the voice. He turned to his desk and saw Kurt, sitting on his chair casually, looking at him with a slight amusement on his face.

'What are you doing here?' Blaine asked him, though he wasn't upset to see him. Instead, despite his shock, a smile stretched over his face. A quiet evening with Kurt sounded perfect – with school the next morning, he knew that he was going to be ridiculously busy until after the fight and he had no idea when he would be able to spend some time alone with Kurt.

'Clarissa let me in, of course,' Kurt replied, moving off his chair to sit next to Blaine on the bed, 'how was training?'

'Exhausting,' Blaine groaned, 'I haven't trained this hard in my _life_. But this is such an important fight to me. It's worth it.'

'Tell me about it,' Kurt requested simply, moving to sit behind Blaine, running his hands over his shoulders. Blaine exhaled, his body relaxing slightly, as Kurt began to knead the muscles in his shoulders, sore from hours of training.

'It's obviously the biggest fight of my career so far,' Blaine explained, humming happily as Kurt continued to massage him, 'we've met Alexei, of course, and we're both going for the – _oh_, okay, that's nice – the lightweight championship tile. If I win, I could be sponsored and – _ooh_ – okay, you're not using your hands anymore.'

Kurt was slowly kissing his way up Blaine's neck and his body was beginning to heat up. He felt Kurt's tongue trace the shell of his ear and he let out a low moan, turning to face his boyfriend, who feigned innocence.

'I just wanted to help my boyfriend relax a little,' he shrugged, the same innocent expression still on his face, 'I mean, I just wanted to take your mind off how tired and sore you must be…'

With that, he leaned forward and kissed Blaine softly, his hand moving up to tangle in Blaine's hair as he parted his boyfriend's lips with his tongue. The kiss heated up quickly and Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and pulled him on top of him, Kurt moving to straddle Blaine as he grinded their hips together.

'_God_, Kurt, don't do that,' Blaine breathed, breaking away from the kiss and rolling them over so that he was in control, 'remember Valentine's Day? How that ended up? You're not ready for this yet.'

'I've been thinking about it,' Kurt protested, trying to kiss Blaine again, who avoided it by turning his head stubbornly, 'and I _am_ ready, I know I am.'

'You're _not_, Kurt, and I'm not either,' Blaine replied firmly. He sat up and pulled Kurt along with him, 'I'm okay with kissing, alright? But I want us to be _ready_ for this, and I want it to be meaningful for the both of us, alright?'

Kurt nodded and Blaine assumed that he got the picture, so he leaned forward and kissed him gently. Kurt deepened the kiss almost immediately, pulling Blaine close. Blaine allowed himself to get a little carried away with the kiss, feeling Kurt's hands running up and down his body, leaving him burning.

_Stop it, Blaine, _he reprimanded himself sharply, _don't let yourself get carried away – you're just kissing, it's just – oh!_

A moan erupted from his mouth before he'd even realized what was happening, and he tore away from his thoughts to see Kurt's hand had snaked down between them and was now resting on Blaine's crotch, caught in the act. Blaine looked at Kurt incredulously, who wore a sheepish expression.

'What are you doing?' Blaine hissed, hearing footsteps on the stairs. He couldn't tell if whoever was out there was going upstairs or down.

'I thought you would enjoy it…' Kurt shrugged, sounding rather dejected. Blaine's eyes narrowed.

'Yeah, of course, but my _family_ is home.' he reminded Kurt gently, not wanting Kurt to think he was mad at him. He wasn't angry, but he didn't want his mother or Martin to walk in on them in a compromising position – he couldn't imagine how awkward that would make things.

Kurt climbed off his lap and sighed, putting his head in his hands. Blaine frowned and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend.

'I – I want to do it,' Kurt told him softly, 'I mean, I want to have that – that _connection _with you. You have my heart, Blaine, and I want to give my all to you. I want to do this.'

'Kurt,' Blaine sighed, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to his lips, 'I want it, too. But that's not the only thing I want. I want to be able to just _be _with you without it leading to that… stuff. I know that once people start, it's hard to stop and I don't want our relationship to be centered around it, okay?'

Kurt nodded and Blaine kissed him again, lingering for a moment. A few moments later, there was a knock on the door and it was opened a second later.

'Dinner's ready, guys,' Martin smiled. Blaine frowned slightly at the dark circles under his trainer's eyes, the way the smile didn't seem completely genuine. But he nodded and released Kurt from his hold and together they went downstairs to eat.

* * *

><p>Blaine shut his locker as he got out his lunch on Tuesday and was more than surprised to see Martin speaking to a teacher about halfway down the corridor. Martin looked fairly excited and once the teacher had walked away, he approached him quickly.<p>

'What on earth are you doing here?' he hissed, looking around. He wasn't embarrassed to have Martin at the school, but he didn't really see the point of him coming and hanging out with him just because he was bored at home.

'Well, Blaine,' Martin grinned, 'I needed a job and the school had an opening. They were getting a little desperate and needed someone quickly so say hello to your new gym teacher!'

Blaine knew that the old gym teacher had taken leave because of a long-term illness, but he'd never thought Martin of all people would replace him. The thought both excited and terrified Blaine – his students would never be able to walk again after his class.

'Don't you need to be like… qualified to teach?' Blaine asked slowly. Martin shrugged.

'Well, the fact that I owned a gym for the past like, twenty years and I _do _have my personal training degree and I've been training people since I got hold of the gym seemed to be enough for them. It's only until I get the gym back but I'm really excited to do this!'

Blaine was happy for him, he really was. But then he realized what class he had next and he suppressed a groan.

'I've got you after lunch,' he told him, 'a double period.'

Martin's eyes lit up as though Christmas had come early.

'That's awesome! You'll have like, two brutal trainings in a row!'

At this, Blaine didn't bother hiding his groan.

'If you haven't already noticed,' he told him, 'you're teaching a _class_. You're teaching a class _gym_, actually, so don't get too far ahead of yourself, okay? You don't want to kill your students. Especially not me! You can't just focus on me and neglect everyone else.'

Martin laughed then, 'alright, Blaine. I'll try be normal. But like… I did want to do a sort of mixed martial arts thing.'

Blaine contemplated this for a moment – he had a few of his friends in that class, including Kurt, and the more he thought about it, the more fun it seemed. Of course, it would have to be harmless – he couldn't actually injure any of the jocks in his class if they fought, but it was a good way for him to keep focusing on his fighting, even in school. And besides – Martin was unstoppable in his time, he could really teach them how to defend themselves.

Kurt especially – they'd never really gotten around to more kickboxing lessons after that first one, and Blaine had been meaning to teach him a little more about self defense. Though Kurt was being bullied less now that he was with Blaine – and Blaine had showed the school exactly what they were in for if they messed with him or his man – but Blaine couldn't be everywhere at once and Kurt still received the occasional shove into a locker and some pretty nasty words. Blaine wanted Kurt to know how to fight someone off if he were attacked, or merely stand up for himself a little more. After all, knowing how to fight did wonders for your self-confidence. He was beginning to look forward to his gym class.

They parted ways then and Blaine went to the choir room to find Kurt. Sure enough, he was there with Finn, Rachel, Tina and Mike. Finn, Kurt and Mike were all in his gym class so decided he would at least tell them then news.

'Hey guys, guess what?'

'What?' Finn asked, looking up and smiling at Blaine. Blaine took a seat next to Kurt and kissed him quickly before replying.

'We have a new gym teacher,' he told them, 'I just met him out in the hall.'

'Oh, really? It's about time. Who is it?' Mike asked, 'does he seem like a nice guy?'

'Actually, I know for a fact he's a very nice guy,' Blaine replied, smiling, 'he's my trainer, Martin.'

Kurt frowned, 'why is Martin our gym teacher? I mean, he's great and all, but I don't get it.'

'I don't really get it either,' Blaine shrugged, 'but apparently he has a personal training thing and that was good enough for Figgins.'

'Personal training isn't exactly equivalent to teaching a group of boys gym,' Rachel remarked. Blaine laughed.

'Oh, he's more than capable of it,' he assured her, 'I'm just scared of how hard he's going to push us. He says he wants to do mixed martial arts.'

'That is so cool!' Finn exclaimed, 'I always wanted to learn how to fight! Is Martin a good fighter?'

'Martin is insane,' Blaine told him, grinning excitedly, 'like, he's just crazy. He was a champion when he was younger and he's taught me all I know and this is going to be _so _much fun.'

They talked excitedly for the rest of lunch, Blaine telling them stories of Martin's old fights that he'd seen and what he thought the classes would be like. Lunch went quickly after that, and Blaine felt a thrill run through him at the sound of the bell. The boys headed to the changing rooms and when they were changed, they went into the gym, where Martin was waiting, looking psyched.

Blaine went up to talk to him while the other boys got changed. When the class was full, they gathered around Martin and Blaine went to stand next to Mike.

'Hello, class!' Martin grinned, 'I'm your new gym teacher, Martin Ortiz. I don't know how long I'll be your gym teacher for, but while I am, I'm going to try and make this as interesting for you guys as possible. Now, I know your old gym teacher usually just made you run laps or play basketball or something, but I want to focus on something fun. I'm going to teach you guys how to fight.'

A murmur of excitement broke out through the class and Martin's smile brightened.

'Do you even know how to fight?' Azimio called out from the back of the group. Martin raised an eyebrow, apparently amused at the question.

'Do I know how to fight?' he repeated, and Blaine snorted from his spot at the front of the group, 'I was the nation's top welterweight for three straight years. I've been fighting since the age of six – I was undefeated until the end of my professional career – thirty two wins, and most of those were by knockout. I also,' he added, as the people in the class looked impressed, 'coach one of the most promising young mixed martial arts fighters in the country.'

Blaine smiled at that and Martin shot him a wink.

'Now,' Martin continued, 'I was thinking that we could get into partners – you guys do that now – and we could spar. You know,' he grinned at them, 'like men.'

Martin obviously wasn't the best teacher in the world but he did know how to get a group excited, and by suggesting they do 'fun, manly' things certainly got his class eager for the lesson. They paired off quickly, Blaine taking Kurt's hand before anyone else could try and pair off with either of them.

'Alright,' Martin clapped his hands together, 'who here has any fighting experience at all?'

There was a small pause.

'Does throwing nerds into dumpsters count? Because if it does, we got plenty of experience,' Azimio chuckled, high fiving Karofsky. Kurt shot a glare at both of them. He'd been on the receiving end of many dumpster tosses and it had not only humiliated him, but had ruined countless outfits that he hadn't been able to save. Martin also narrowed his eyes.

'By 'experience', I mean, has anyone actually trained or fought properly – throwing people into dumpsters doesn't count, it only proves how weak of a fighter you actually are,' Martin told them coolly, folding his arms over his chest. There was a collective chuckle throughout the class and Azimio and Karofsky looked a little sheepish.

But then Blaine raised his hand and Martin grinned at him.

'Yes, Blaine, I know you have a _lot_ of experience. I was hoping you could help me demonstrate.'

Blaine, never one to refuse a chance to fight, stepped forward and Martin pointed out gloves behind him. He strapped them on quickly and Martin turned back to the class.

'Okay, right. I'm going to teach you the basics today – Blaine, you stretch while I talk – and then maybe during the second half of the lesson we can actually try them out on each other. Now, if I see _anybody_ taking this too seriously and they try to seriously injure someone, I'm kicking you out of this class for good, I don't care. Sparring isn't about injuring your opponent; it's about trying to improve your skills, trying out new techniques, preparing for fights – like Blaine here is doing – and most of all, it's just a lot of fun. Now, there are many different styles of mixed martial arts, but seeing as my assistant and I are kickboxers, we'll be focusing on that for this lesson. Okay, Blaine!'

Blaine looked up from where he was stretching and Martin reached behind him for a sparring pad, which he held firmly against his chest. Blaine eyed it, getting into a fighting stance, already slipping into fighter-mode.

He didn't notice the rest of the class eyeing him, looking both a little intimidated and impressed. Most of them had seen what he had done to Karofsky – and those who hadn't had certainly heard, and they knew that this was Blaine's territory now.

'Alright, Blaine, front kick.' Martin ordered, to which Blaine complied immediately, quickly snapping his leg up and kicking at the pad viciously. Martin stumbled backwards a step or two but kept a firm grip on the pad. Blaine looked around and some of the boys were nodding in approval, others looking curious.

'Side kick.'

And Blaine turned to the side and kicked the pad again, guard up, looking fierce. Martin then made him demonstrate a roundhouse kick, how to strike with your knees, elbows, and various jabs and hooks. By the end of it, he was having him do complicated combinations and the class watched on in awe, eager to start sparring their own partners.

'Now, keep in mind that most of you won't be able to do this properly,' Martin advised them as he made Blaine go and stand back with the class, who were looking at him with a newfound respect, 'but with practice, you'll be able to get the basics down. There are gloves behind me and you guys are to practice the kicks – but _not_ to hurt each other. And never aim for the face – that's off limits.'

The class scrambled to get to the gloves and a few minutes later, there were shouts of laughter and excitement as they started sparring. Martin supervised, looking both amused and proud as they threw halfhearted punches and kicks at each other.

That's what he loved about fighting – despite the negativity it connoted, it really did bring people together. The thrill of fighting was infectious – he'd never forget the rush of adrenaline he would feel before a fight, the crowd chanting his name, the lights blinding and hot and his eye set on one thing – winning. He missed fighting, but he had to have moved on sometime; the gym kept him too busy and then there was Blaine he had helped bring up. It was worth giving up fighting but he still missed it terribly.

Kurt and Blaine were having lots of fun sparring together. Blaine was, of course, taking it extremely easy and Kurt was actually trying, but not having much of an impact. But they were laughing and enjoying themselves and Kurt couldn't remember the last time he'd actually had _fun_ in gym class.

'Enjoying yourself?' Blaine asked, dodging a punch Kurt threw at him. Kurt grinned.

'Martin is great,' he replied, punching Blaine in the chest, and Blaine clasped his hand over his head as though he had actually hurt him, 'oh my god, Blaine, are you okay?'

Blaine shook his head and Kurt walked over hesitantly to see what was wrong. As he drew closer, Blaine quickly wrapped his arms around them and pulled them both to the floor, kissing the top of his head on the way down. Kurt shrieked and laughed – the other students were too busy fighting to notice anything going on, but Martin did.

'Not appropriate,' he called out in a sing-song voice, 'you two are in cla-ass!'

'Yeah,' Blaine heard Azimio add, 'no one wants to see two faggots rolling around on the ground.'

That got Blaine to his feet instantly, and he strapped his gloves on tighter as he rounded on Azimio.

'No one asked you what you wanted to see, Azimio,' he shot, glaring daggers at him, 'but while we're on the subject, perhaps you'd like my fist to be the first thing you see before you wake up in hospital?'

'Blaine,' Martin called sharply, and Blaine exhaled heavily, knowing his temper was getting the better of him again. Martin stepped towards them, looking grave, 'look, Blaine, I won't tolerate that kind of behavior in my class, okay? It's inappropriate for a schooling environment.'

Blaine opened his mouth to protest and Martin rolled his eyes.

'I don't care if you're gay or not, it would apply to any boy and girl as well,' he assured him, before turning to Azimio, 'and while Blaine's behavior was inappropriate, I will _not_ accept the use of that word. _Ever_. I'm going to let you off this time, but next time, you're going to run laps until your legs burn a track into the football field.'

He turned to address the rest of the class.

'I'm not going to tolerate hate of any kind in my classroom,' he told them firmly, receiving a nod from each student as a response, 'I'm not going to put up with bullying, teasing, taunting – none of it, okay? In this gym we're all equals. In this gym _and _out of it. You boys need to learn to respect each other before you grow up, because in the real world, no one is going to put up with immaturity like that. You guys can continue.'

The sparring continued, but there was a thoughtful air in the gym now, and Martin could tell the boys were thinking about what he said, and the way some of the boys were glancing at him as they fought, he knew they were beginning to respect him, too.

The bell went soon after and Blaine lingered behind, waiting for all the others to leave before heading over to Martin.

'That was nice of you,' he remarked, taking off his gloves and throwing them into the box with the rest, 'the equality speech. I feel like the guys really respect you.'

Martin smiled, 'thanks. I don't know, I just – I'm so used to the old gym being so accepting, you know? I've known everyone there for so long and we're all like… a family. I want that here, too.'

'You'll have a hard time getting it,' Blaine snorted, and then his expression softened as he saw Martin's face fall, 'I'm sorry, Martin. We're teenagers – we're not going to be getting along that well.'

Martin shrugged and Blaine felt suddenly bad for being so tactless.

'So… have you sorted things out for the gym yet?' he asked tentatively, not wanting to upset Martin more.

'I'm taking everything from the inside because I paid for it all,' Martin replied, 'and I'm going to sell it. Now that I'm working here though, I think I'm going to get myself a house down here.'

'No,' Blaine frowned, 'just stay with us, you know we want you there.'

'I don't want to freeload,' Martin told him, 'I'd feel much better in a place of my own.'

'You can't though,' Blaine protested, 'it'll be so much better for me, for mum – for _you_. We can't be separated anymore; we're all obviously going through hard times and we _need _each other. Stay with us, Martin. Please? You know dad would have wanted you to.'

Martin looked put out at the mention of his best friend, but after a few moments, he nodded.

'I suppose,' he shrugged, 'yeah. Yeah, you're right. It'll be a lot better for all of us if we stuck together. We do need each other.'

Blaine smiled at him and they left the gym together, discussing the training they would be doing later that night. Blaine was beyond happy that it hadn't taken Martin that long to begin getting his life back on track; though he knew it was a life that wouldn't be complete without the return of his gym.

He still hadn't talked to his mother about it but he knew that somehow things were going to work out for Martin. The gym was a part of him, and as long as he kept fighting, anything was possible.


	26. Chapter 26

The days flew past too quickly for Blaine's liking, and before he knew it, it was Friday – the Friday before his fight.

He had been buried under piles of homework and mountains of training and had been stressing constantly, but he now felt eerily calm.

He was sat on his bedroom floor with Finn and Martin and Puck, engaged in a fierce game of Call of Duty – Kurt sat behind them on the bed, looking uninterested as he flipped through a Vogue magazine.

'Shoot, Finn, oh my god!' Blaine shouted, slamming his controller on the floor in exasperation. Finn looked sheepish as his character respawned, only to be shot again almost instantly.

'Sorry!' Finn apologized meekly, passing the controller to Puck, 'you're too good at this game, Blaine!'

Blaine had his eyes glued to the screen; this was more training than recreation. He needed to sharpen his reflexes for the fight, and he and Martin had discovered that nothing made you more alert than being attacked from all angles on a video game.

He had trained that day – he skipped school and spent the day at the gym, and then had invited the boys over to play video games.

He had to admit that he was having a lot of fun, but he could tell that Kurt was really bored – he'd never been into first-person shooting games, and Blaine felt a little bad for leaving him out. Still, this was technically a part of his training, even though it was a lot of fun, and it was really helping him with his reflexes.

Still though, he felt guilty that Kurt wasn't enjoying himself and after a few more minute of gaming, he passed Martin his controller and climbed onto the bed with Kurt.

'Hello,' Kurt smiled, shutting his magazine, 'I see you've decided to join the group of people with sanity.'

Blaine cupped his face and kissed him quickly, grinning.

'I'm training,' he reminded him, 'and it'll all be over soon and then I'll be able to spend every waking minute with you.'

Kurt smiled softly.

'That does sound lovely,' he admitted, 'but that's in a few days. I do want you to focus on your fight.'

'I am,' Blaine replied, 'but I do still love you.'

'I love you too.'

'Gross, you two,' Puck commented from the floor, and Blaine chuckled, 'this room is for men; you know, real men who don't fawn over their significant others.'

'Hey,' Finn protested, 'I tell Rachel that I love her!'

'At least Martin and I are manly!' Puck grinned, reaching to high five Martin, who bit his lip.

'Martin's a bit whipped,' Blaine informed him, 'you know. By mum.'

As time went on, he had noticed his mother and Martin becoming closer, and he knew he couldn't really do anything to stop that. He knew they had been out on Valentine's Day – and he still had no idea what had happened between them that night, but it was inevitable that they were almost inseparable at this point. It still annoyed him a little bit – well, a lot – but their happiness was what meant most to him and if they were happy with each other, he would learn to accept it; perhaps grudgingly at first, but he would learn to understand their relationship.

At this, Puck let out a whoop and clapped Martin on the back.

'I don't blame you, man, Clarissa's a total milf!' Puck grinned.

Blaine's mouth fell open slightly and Martin blushed.

'Puck, that is disgusting,' Blaine groaned, rubbing his hands over his face, 'you're delusional.'

'Uh,' Finn spoke up, 'he's not. Your mum is pretty hot, Blaine.'

'Dude, shut up.' Blaine groaned again, falling back on his bed, 'I don't want to hear this.'

'I would take it as a compliment,' Kurt told him fondly, 'you look a lot like your mum, so they're basically saying you're good looking.'

Blaine raised his eyebrow at that, and Puck simply grinned at him.

'There's nothing wrong with finding someone attractive,' he pointed out, 'I mean, I'm comfortable enough with my sexuality to admit we're all extremely good looking.'

Finn high fived him and Blaine simply stared at them in confusion.

'Honestly, I thought Kurt and I were meant to be the gay ones,' he commented, shaking his head. Puck merely laughed and turned back to his game, and Blaine rolled his eyes.

'You know what we should do? We should go for a walk,' Kurt suggested, 'the boys will hardly notice we're gone.'

'Oh we will,' Martin assured them, 'but we don't care. You guys should go, Blaine, the fresh air would be good for you.'

Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and hauled him off the bed, bidding a quick goodbye to the boys before leading Kurt downstairs.

The light was beginning to dim outside and there was no real chance of them being spotted by anyone, so Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt's hand and they walked in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other's company.

'I'm proud of you, you know,' Kurt told him suddenly, smiling. Blaine looked at him, eyebrows raised.

'Why's that?'

Kurt squeezed his hand, 'for this fight. I mean, you've been training for this like crazy since I met you, and even before that and that is a _lot_ of time and determination spent on it. A lot of people would have given up already. I can't imagine how exhausting it is for you.'

'This is my dream, Kurt,' Blaine reminded him, 'this fight could open up so many doors for me and I _want_ those doors open. Fighting is my life, I'd do anything to get to the top.'

Kurt smiled softly.

'You once told me fighting was all you've ever wanted,' he told him wistfully, and Blaine remembered telling him one day in the corridor shortly after they'd met. He kissed Kurt on the cheek softly.

'Well, now I want a little more than that,' he told him, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist, 'I want you. Only there's a difference – the title isn't mine yet, but I know you are.'

'Of course I am,' Kurt grinned, kissing Blaine lightly, 'I'll be yours for however long you want me.'

'So you don't mind spending forever with me?' Blaine teased, leaning his forehead against Kurt's, holding him close.

Kurt snorted, 'please. Like you would spend forever with me.'

Blaine drew away from him slightly and frowned.

'What on earth do you mean?' he asked, looking puzzled. Kurt sighed.

'You're going to get big in fighting,' Kurt explained, 'and you'll move somewhere flashy like New York and you'll meet someone who is better than me and you'll leave me for him.'

Blaine bit his lip and took Kurt's hands in his and kissed them softly.

'Your insecurities break my heart,' he told him softly, 'I want you to know that you're perfect for me, okay? I don't care how young we are or – or how short we've been dating. I can feel it, you know. In my heart. It might be cliché or whatever but Kurt, I really do love you.'

Kurt's expression softened and he kissed Blaine.

'I love you,' he told him, and Blaine smiled.

They continued on their walk, talking about anything that came into their heads. Blaine couldn't remember feeling this serene so close to a fight before, and he knew that Kurt had a big part in helping him calm down.

'Are you scared about your fight?'

Blaine thought about it for a moment; he knew he was terrified, but he just couldn't feel it then. He couldn't feel anything but the same blissful giddiness he always felt when he was with Kurt.

'Yes,' he replied, 'I am. But I can't feel it – I can't feel anything but happiness around you.'

He saw Kurt blush lightly at the comment and he couldn't help but feel happy that he could make Kurt feel that way.

'But I am really scared,' he admitted, 'this could define my whole career.'

'Just know that whatever happens,' Kurt told him solemnly, 'whether you win or lose, we'll all still love you. And we'll all be so very proud of you, okay?'

Blaine nodded, but he knew that a loss wasn't acceptable – as proud they would be, he knew that they would be disappointed. _He _would be disappointed in himself, and he knew his confidence would be shattered entirely, and then he had no idea what would happen to his fighting career.

But those were thoughts for another time; now he was simply enjoying some time with his beautiful boyfriend, who he knew understood how he was feeling. He knew that Kurt wouldn't judge him on his insecurities and for once in his life, he felt as though he could be completely open with someone about how he felt.

But despite his anxiety, he was almost beside himself with excitement. He had been training for this his whole life and he was about to prove to everyone just how good of a fighter he was.

He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he did think he could win this fight. He was determined – probably more than Alexei, who just seemed to want the title so that Blaine couldn't have it. He was going to win, he could feel that he would, and the thought burned like a fire in him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: A short chapter because the fight is next and I didn't want this to drag on because there is little to no plot now that isn't actually the fight. Still, 'm both super excited for his and dreading it because I don't want the story to end!<strong>

**So I hope you'll excuse the subpar chapter just this once because the next chapter is going to be _big_.  
><strong>


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: IT'S THE FIGHT. GET EXCITED BECAUSE I KNOW I AM!**

**I made the town up. I couldn't be bothered finding an actual place to use, sorry. :P **

**Warning: Extreme violence. I mean, it is a fight, after all. :L**

* * *

><p>The day of the fight dawned bright and early and the moment the sun's rays hit Blaine's face, he was wide awake.<p>

His stomach fluttered with nerves and excitement and he practically bounded out of bed, feeling like a child on Christmas morning.

His mother and Martin were having a coffee in the kitchen downstairs and he beamed at them, pulling the fridge open and pulling out a bottle of orange juice, shaking it, whistling cheerfully.

'Good morning!' he greeted them, kissing his mother on the cheek and sliding into his seat at the kitchen counter.

'Hey, champion,' Martin replied, taking a sip of his coffee, 'how are you feeling?'

'So good,' Blaine grinned, shaking his head, unscrewing the lid of the bottle of orange juice and drinking deeply. He heard his mother click her tongue in disapproval but he couldn't bring himself to care. He set the juice down and smiled at them, 'I feel amazing. I slept wonderfully and I feel like I'm going to do really, really well today.'

'Kurt will be over soon,' Clarissa told him, 'he called while you were asleep – he's an early riser, too. I'm glad you're feeling good, honey.'

'And we'll be proud of you whether you win or lose,' Martin reminded him, tapping his fingers against his mug of coffee, 'but I know you're going to be fine today, Blaine. You've worked so hard.'

Blaine smiled at him – he couldn't keep the grin off his face. This was his dream coming true and he was going to make it happen.

There was a knock at the door, and knowing it would be Kurt, Blaine went into the hall and pulled the door open quickly, pulling Kurt into his arms and kissing him soundly before he could even speak.

'Good morning to you too,' Kurt laughed breathlessly when he pulled away, 'I'm assuming that you're feeling pretty good today?'

'I feel amazing!' Blaine told him, spinning them both in a circle, 'I'm so glad that you're here; you've just improved my mood by infinity.'

'Careful, Blaine,' Kurt joked, 'you might float away soon.'

Blaine merely kissed him again and then pulled him into the kitchen so that he could say hello to Martin and Clarissa. Clarissa kissed Kurt's cheek fondly and Martin clapped him on the shoulder affectionately.

'Nice to see you, Kurt,' he smiled, 'I'm glad you're coming with us.'

'I wouldn't miss it for the world.' Kurt grinned, sitting down on one of the stools at the counter.

'So who else is coming today, Blaine?' Clarissa asked as she began to collect cups to put in the sink. Blaine frowned for a moment.

'The Warblers,' he replied slowly, 'maybe Puck and Finn, I think. Oh, and Madison, the girl from the coffee shop.'

Kurt snorted, 'don't be ridiculous, Blaine. All of the New Directions are going to the fight – so are my parents.'

Blaine's eyes lit up.

'Your parents are coming?' he asked, sounding surprised. Kurt smiled and hit his shoulder softly.

'Of course they are, silly,' he laughed, 'they're just as proud of you as I am.'

Clarissa smiled warmly.

'That's very nice of them,' she commented happily, turning the tap on and rinsing out the cups.

'We'll be leaving soon,' Martin told them, glancing at the clock, 'it's a three hour drive and I want Blaine to get some training in before the fight.'

They chattered aimlessly for a while, Blaine still overexcited at the prospect of fighting. Eventually they packed up the car and hopped in, Martin driving, Kurt and Blaine in the backseat, and headed off.

Blaine and Kurt didn't stop singing the whole trip – Blaine out of excitement and Kurt just for the sake of singing. Clarissa joined in sometimes, when she knew the words, and Martin simply stared at them every so often as though they had gone insane. He understood that Blaine was excited, but he'd never seen him _this_ excited before. Granted, this was the biggest fight of his career, but he didn't want Blaine to crash midway through the day or something.

The trip went a lot faster with all the excitement in the air, and pretty soon they were entering Maynic, and Blaine whooped in excitement.

'Welcome to Maynic!' Martin announced as they passed the flashy side. Blaine pressed his face to the glass to look outside the window, watching as the town as it whizzed past. Martin punched something into the GPS and the route changed to find the arena.

By now, Blaine had grabbed Kurt's hand and was squeezing it almost painfully in his excitement, and Kurt winced, trying to pull his hand back.

'I get you're excited, Blaine, but please, I'd rather my hand in working order.' he muttered, tugging his hand away. Blaine's expression turned into one of a hurt puppy and he quickly picked Kurt's hand up and kissed it softly.

'I'm sorry,' he apologized, 'I'm just really, really happy I can share this with you.'

Kurt's annoyance vanished in an instant and he leaned over to kiss Blaine softly on the lips. Clarissa caught sight of them in the rearview mirror and smiled fondly at them. Apparently Martin saw too, because a moment later a hand was covering her own and she shot him a small smile.

They found the arena a few minutes later and pulled into the mostly empty parking lot. Blaine shot out of the car like a bullet, dragging Kurt along with him, leaving Martin and Clarissa to get the bags and lock the car up. Blaine walked in through the doors and stopped in his tracks immediately.

He didn't realize the arena would be so _big_. There had to be thousands and thousands of seats around the arena, and Blaine could see huge lights hanging from the ceiling, as well as larger television screens in spots around the gym.

The octagon stood proudly in the centre, looking intimidating and completely magnificent.

'This is _huge_,' Blaine breathed, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. His eyes were focused on the screens and the octagon – his fight would be broadcasted from every angle, to god knows how many people. There were going to be other fights that night, but his was the main event. He suddenly felt nervous – there was going to be so many people watching him tonight.

He felt Kurt squeeze his hand reassuringly as they ventured further into the arena, weaving through the seats in silence, looking around in awe. There weren't any other people inside, and it made the arena seem even bigger.

'Where are we going?' Kurt asked as they continued to the other side. Blaine pointed at a pair of double doors at the back of the arena.

'I'm pretty sure the gym is back there,' he told him as they reached the doors. He pushed them open hesitantly and they wandered through the corridors, noting that there were changing rooms and a gym along the way.

'Hey – what are you two doing?'

Kurt and Blaine spun around – dropping their hands in the process – and were faced with a slightly overweight, stern looking man in a business suit. Blaine blinked.

'Um, I'm Blaine Anderson,' Blaine told him nervously, 'I'm meant to be fighting tonight.'

The man's face lit up.

'Blaine Anderson?' he repeated, and Blaine nodded uncertainly, 'oh, you've come to the right place, come along, come along.'

And he walked over to Blaine and took him by the arm and started pulling him along the corridor.

'Wait – what about Kurt?' Blaine protested weakly, holding his arm out to Kurt, who looked rather confused.

'Who?' the man turned to him, frowning.

'My boyfriend – Kurt. Can't he come, too?' Blaine gestured to Kurt, and the man turned to him and looked him up and down.

'Boyfriend? Very well, very well, come along then, Kirk…'

'_Kurt_.' Blaine corrected firmly, Kurt latching onto his hand.

'Of course he is,' the man muttered distractedly, continuing to pull them down the corridor, 'we have much to do, much to do indeed; Alexei was here yesterday but you – you came late.'

'Wait, late for what?' Blaine asked as he was practically shoved through a door into a large, well lit room.

'The photos! The press! All of it,' the man explained, waving his arms around as he spoke, 'do you know how long it takes for _banners_ to develop? They'll take hours to print! Luckily for you the fight isn't until six but you'd better go in there _now_ and get those photos done!'

Blaine was pushed towards another door and Kurt stared after him wistfully. Blaine bit his lip and rushed forward at the last second, cupping Kurt's cheeks and kissing him briefly before going through the other door.

In the other room was the gym – Blaine figured that the room he was just in would be where he would wait for his fight. There was a woman inside the gym, dressed nicely, fussing over something. She saw him and her eyes widened.

'Oh, you must be Blaine! _Finally_!' she breathed a sigh of relief and rushed over to him, 'my name is Patricia, I'm going to be your stylist. Thank _heavens_, you're much better looking than the last boy we had. At least now the girls have something to look at!'

'I'm gay?' Blaine offered, sounding slightly apologetic. She raised her eyebrow at him.

'Of course you are, honey,' she replied, grabbing his arm – much gentler than the man had – and led him through another door into a changing room.

'Okay, you're going to put those clothes on,' she told him, pointing to a neatly stacked pile, topped with brand new gloves, 'and then I'm going to have someone do your hair and makeup and we'll get this photo done.'

Blaine frowned. Makeup? He didn't like the sound of it, but Patricia's nails were an inch long and painted bright red and he didn't want to find out what being on her bad side was like. He picked up the clothes and changed into them hurriedly, noticing there wasn't a shirt for him to wear.

'Um, can I have a shirt?' he asked slowly once he'd emerged from behind the lockers. Patricia stared at him for a second and then burst out laughing.

'Oh sweetie,' she smiled, 'you're too much. Come here.'

He was led into the bathroom where there was some sort of makeshift salon going on – Blaine hoped it would be gone by the time the fight came around. He was sat down on a chair and a moment later a tall man bustled in. Blaine's gaydar went off instantly and he was right, too. As soon as the man spotted him, he all but squealed.

'Ooh, Patricia, he is _gorgeous_!' he cooed, and Blaine went bright red. He suddenly wished he had Kurt with him, but he knew that this man was a lot older and, apart from embarrassing him, wouldn't try anything, 'I'm Logan, I'm going to style this cute little mop of hair of yours today!'

Blaine raised an eyebrow as Logan set to work, tugging and gelling and brushing his hair at a rapid pace. Blaine was slightly overwhelmed – he was here to fight, now to be treated as a show pony. Though he knew that getting his face around would bring nothing but some good publicity for him and he decided that he wouldn't make a scene for the sake of his future.

But Logan was done surprisingly quickly and Blaine had to nod in approval – his hair looked really good. It was gelled, but only enough to hold it into place, not the usual half a tub he would have smeared on his hair at Dalton.

Patricia snapped her fingers, 'makeup!'

Logan turned for a moment and when he resurfaced, he was holding a very large box, which he propped up on the counter and opened. Blaine looked at it wearily – he had never seen so much makeup in his life, not even in his mother's bathroom.

He squeezed his eyes shut as it was attacked with some sort of brush, resisting the urge to scratch at his skin – it tickled like crazy. But the torture only lasted a few minutes and then Logan made a satisfied sound, stepping back.

Blaine opened his eyes and had to laugh at himself – he looked stupidly flawless, and not like himself at all. But he thanked Logan politely before Patricia half-dragged him back into the gym, where a photographer was setting up. He noticed Kurt standing off to one side, looking lonely, and went up to him.

'Whoa, you look _amazing_,' Kurt breathed once Blaine was close enough. Blaine grinned at him.

'Makeup does wonders.' he shrugged, pulling Kurt in for a kiss. Almost instantly though, he heard someone screech from the other side of the gym.

'No, no, no!' he recognized the voice as Logan's, 'this _cannot_ happen; I can't have you two messing up my masterpiece!'

Blaine pulled away from Kurt sheepishly just as Logan reached them, torn between a look of fondness and disapproval.

'Sorry,' Blaine apologized meekly, taking Kurt's hand. Logan clucked his tongue but then smiled.

'You two are too cute,' he told them, winking and then walking away. Blaine smiled after him.

'Nice guy, that one,' Kurt commented, kissing Blaine's cheek softly.

They stood together for a few minutes until Blaine was called over by Patricia, who promptly dipper her fingers into a cup of water and flicked it at him.

'What are you doing?' Blaine asked, outraged, as she continued to spray water at him.

'Making you look sweaty,' she replied as though it was normal to throw water at someone out of the blue, 'it'll make you look better. Now get in front of the camera.'

Blaine walked over in front of the white backdrop and then stood awkwardly. What was he supposed to do?

'Alright, Blaine, I want you to look fierce,' the man behind the camera ordered, which Blaine merely raised his eyebrows at. He didn't know how to pose to save his life.

He made a half hearted attempt and the photographer sighed.

'I know it might be awkward, but at least _try_.' he requested, crouching behind the camera again. Blaine began to feel rather stressed – everyone was watching him and he felt completely uncomfortable. He got into fighting stance but could feel that it wasn't working – he couldn't do it.

And then he spotted something just over his shoulder. Kurt was smirking softly at him; not in a mocking manner. But _seductively._

And then he stretched his arms over his head and his shirt lifted to reveal a strip of smooth, alabaster skin and Blaine momentarily forgot what oxygen was. Kurt shot him a saucy wink and then licked his lip and Blaine could feel the heat began to coil in him.

But then a flash distracted him and he looked back to the photographer, who was grinning.

'_Perfect_!' he exclaimed, looking back at the camera's display, 'absolutely flawless. This is going to make a great banner, well done Blaine, you're free to go!'

Blaine cocked his head, confused, before it hit him. Kurt was trying to get a reaction out of him so that he could take a good photo. He was filled with a sudden fondness for him and he strode right past the photographer, Logan and Patricia, pulled Kurt into his arms and kissed him soundly on the lips.

'Thank you,' he breathed once they'd parted. Kurt merely winked and led him out of the gym, back into the corridor, where Martin was talking animatedly with the man in the business suit.

Martin waved him over when he'd spotted him.

'Blaine, glad you're here, I – is that makeup?' he asked, wrinkling his nose. Blaine shrugged and nodded. Martin scoffed, 'that looks ridiculous. Take it off, you're a fighter, not a show pony.'

'That's what I thought…' Blaine muttered, but went back into the bathroom nevertheless to wash his face and rinse the gel out of his hair. He grabbed a towel from one of the benches behind him and rubbed it over his face and through his hair vigorously. When he had dried off most of the water, he pulled the towel away from his face and almost dropped it as he saw who was staring before him.

'Alexei.'

Alexei merely smirked at him and pushed past him to get to one of the showers – he looked as though he'd been training. Blaine felt a spark of anger rip through him and he shut his eyes, trying to level his breathing.

He wasn't scared of Alexei. Not anymore.

That arrogant smirk had been enough to convince him.  
>He was going to beat Alexei into the ground.<p>

* * *

><p>The arena was filling up quickly, excited talk filling the air, the vibe electric. People took their seats, reading over programs, discussing the upcoming fights in earnest. The lights of the arena were beginning to dim and the huge, artificial spotlights were now shining brightly, casting the arena in different colors.<p>

Kurt stood in the midst of it all, somewhere near the front row. He was waiting for his parents – the New Directions had just arrived and the Warblers had come before that; Madison, the girl from the Lima Bean, was even there with her two little brothers. He just needed Burt and Carole and they'd be all set.

He was feeling terrified and jittery and excited and so proud – he had complete faith that Blaine would be able to win the fight.

But that didn't mean he wasn't scared that something would happen to Blaine. He knew Blaine was a very good fighter, but there was always a chance. Accidents happened.

He spotted his parents and waved them over, hopping over the seat in front of him so that he could sit at the front row. He wasn't allowed in the back room with Blaine so he had to wait out here. He wished he could give him a good luck kiss at least, but they'd done plenty of that before they were separated earlier.

'Seen Blaine?' Burt asked as he sat down, program in hand. Kurt nodded.

'A little earlier,' he replied, peering around anxiously to catch a glimpse of him. Burt laughed.

'You won't be seeing him until he comes out to fight, kid,' he told him, and Kurt slumped in his seat, defeated. He wasn't that big of a fighting fan – only when Blaine was fighting – and he had a few fights to sit through before the main event.

He hoped that wherever Blaine was now, he was keeping his cool and wasn't too nervous about the fight.

* * *

><p>Blaine was halfway out of his seat, one hand raised as though he was about to hit someone, Martin sitting next to him, looking just as tense.<p>

'Come on – come on –' Blaine urged, '_hit_ him, what is wrong with you?'

He punched the air as the boy on the television landed a solid hit to his opponent's jaw and the boy stumbled backwards. Blaine cheered.

'He's got this!' Martin shouted, throwing his hands up as the boy landed another good hit, 'it's all over!'

Sure enough, the boy pushed his opponent into the cage and unleashed a barrage of rapid, powerful hits. The other boy visibly slumped and the ref rushed in to pull them apart. The audience exploded into cheers and the victor raised his arms over his head, punching the air above him happily. He was swarmed by his coach and what Blaine assumed was his family. They had just seen the fight that was on before Blaine's; it was the bantamweight division, though it wasn't anything major, it was just a fight that had been booked in as a prelude to the main event.

'You'd think he won the title,' Martin commented, though he looked impressed, 'he's a good fighter.'

The fight was over and realization suddenly hit. Blaine's fight was in twenty minutes. He cast a fearful look at Martin, who nodded.

'It's time.'

* * *

><p>'Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce to you <em>tonight's main event!<em>'

The audience cheered wildly, the noise deafening. The Warblers and the New Directions – as well as Kurt's parents and Madison – all got to their feet excitedly.

'Tonight's main event is the junior featherweight championship,' the announcer told them once the screaming had died down a little, 'coming all the way from Russia, weighing in at 153 pounds, our reigning featherweight champion, _Alexei Rukovskaya!'_

The crowd cheered once again as Alexei pushed through the crowd, hood over his head, his eyes dark and fierce. He hopped around a little and dropped his robe to the floor, stepping into the cage and going over to the opposite corner, the crowd still cheering for him wildly.

'_And from our own Ohio_,' the announcer continued, which made the crowd quiet down a bit, 'and fighting for the title of junior featherweight champion, weighing in at 151 pounds, _Blaine Anderson!_'

Now the crowd _really_ went crazy. They would much rather someone from their own state won the championship; it would bring them a great deal of honor. Feet were stamped and Blaine's friends jumped up and down excitedly, shouting at the top of their lungs, as they waited for Blaine to enter.

Blaine was standing at the double doors and he exhaled sharply. This was it. He could feel the nerves in his stomach as though they were fireworks. He shook his head to clear it and put his game far on.

This was it.

He pushed through the crowd much like Alexei had done, and stepped into the cage, followed by the ref. Alexei was smirking at him as he shoved his mouth guard into his mouth, his stare mocking, trying to get a rise out of Blaine. Blaine merely stared back coolly, not about to lose his temper.

'The fight is scheduled for five rounds, each going for five minutes. There are three ways this fight can end; by submission, by knockout – either technical or regular, or it could go to the judges to be scored. The rules should be known by now, I'm not going to repeat myself because I know you guys _want to see carnage!_'

The room exploded with screams and cheers again, because that is exactly why they had come to watch the fight. Kurt bit his lip, looking worried, and he felt someone from behind clap his shoulder. He turned to see Nick, who smiled at him.

'He'll be fine,' he whispered, and Kurt nodded.

The announcer left the cage and the door was shut, leaving only Blaine and Alexei and the ref.

And despite the cheering and the noise around him, everything melted away and Blaine could hear nothing at all. His eyes were trained on Alexei, who was glaring back with an equal intensity. All that existed was Alexei and the octagon they were standing in.

The ref gestured for them to come to the center of the octagon and Blaine knew that this was it.

This is what he had been working towards his whole life.

And he would _not _lose.

'I want a clean fight from both of you, alright,' the ref told them sternly, however his eyes lingered on Alexei too much and it left Blaine feeling a little suspicious, 'you two know the rules, alright? Touch gloves, let's go.'

He stepped back and Blaine extended his hand, hearing a bell go off in the background. Alexei all but slammed his fist into Blaine's and Blaine knew then that he wouldn't be holding back at all.

The first swing came quickly, and Blaine dodged easily.

_Stay upright, Blaine,_ he thought quickly, throwing a punch which clipping Alexei on the chin,_ stay up. Just stay _up.

His thoughts almost cost him a hit to the head, and he dodged at the last second, quickly pushing all thoughts from his head.

'Keep your guard up, Blaine!'

It was Martin, and he felt reassured that he wasn't really alone in this. He threw a punch, but Alexei got there first and his head snapped back at the force of the hit.

Shit.

He took a few steps back and spin kicked him as hard as he could, and Alexei stumbled. The crowd roared their approval and Blaine threw another hit, and he could see the flash of pain cross Alexei's face.

He resisted the urge to smile. He could do this.

He kept his head down and the two boys fought for all they were worth, evenly matched throughout the whole first round. Blaine felt as though he'd never fought this well in his life; with the crowd screaming behind him, his veins were flooded with adrenaline and he felt as though he could do anything.

Before a monster right hook from Alexei almost knocked him off his feet and he stumbled into the cage, Alexei slamming into him. Blaine tried not to panic – he couldn't be taken down this early in the fight. He punched Alexei right in the face and he backed off a little, but not long enough for Blaine to get away. A fresh wave of adrenaline suddenly jolted through him and he front kicked Alexei in the chest, which threw him backwards, but not off his feet, and he unleashed a strong right hook right into Alexei's jaw.

The bell signaling the end of round one and the octagon's door was opened, and the trainers came in. Blaine went back to his side of the octagon and sat down on the little stool, Martin squirting water into his mouth.

'You're doing great,' he assured him, running a towel over Blaine's hair. Blaine simply nodded, now aware of how breathless he actually was, 'just remember to keep your hands up and don't let him get you on the ground. So don't ever turn your back to the cage, you know what he does. Just keep strong, Blaine, you can win this, you're fighting harder than he is!'

The ref signaled that Blaine get up and Martin clapped him on the shoulder, leaving the octagon. Blaine walked back to the center of the cage and round two started.

He had no idea what Alexei's trainer had told him, but suddenly the boy was coming at him as though he were out to kill him. Blaine could barely get a hit in – he was too busy trying to avoid Alexei's.

But Alexei had backed him up against the cage again and was sending crushing hits to his ribs. Blaine tried to defend himself as best as he could and quickly dodged a hit to the face, spinning around Alexei so that now he was pressed against the cage. He pulled his first back and slammed it into Alexei's face as hard as he could, once, twice, and he could see that Alexei was becoming dazed from the hits.

However Alexei then launched himself at him and managed to pull him to the ground, and Blaine knew that he was in trouble. He tried to kick Alexei off of him, but the boy was punching him in the side and Blaine was trying his best to not cry out. He struggled and managed to roll them over so that now he was straddling Alexei, finding himself in a position of power, something he didn't think he would have on the ground in this fight.

He sent a devastating hit to Alexei's nose and it began to bleed, spraying the floor with blood. The sight elicited a small thrill in Blaine – at this point, he knew he was winning. He drew back his fist just as Alexei got a leg free and kicked him right in the chest, so that Blaine fell backwards off of him.

He mentally cursed himself then for getting cocky. He couldn't get overconfident – he had to _fight _to win. This wasn't over, not at all.

Blaine scrambled to his feet quickly and Alexei went for another take down, but Blaine dodged the attack and Alexei fell forward. Blaine kicked him as hard as he could in the side and Alexei slumped. He went to kick him again but felt the ref's hand on his chest, holding him back lightly. Alexei struggled to his feet and the moment Blaine saw he was steady, sent a kick straight to his head.

Alexei stumbled backwards and round two was over. He shot Blaine a glare and Blaine went over to his side, where the cage had been opened and Martin all but bounced in.

'That was amazing – you're amazing!' he gushed, giving him some water. Blaine nodded, feeling the pain of the hits now that he wasn't fighting, and Martin grinned, 'don't let it go to your head, of course, but you're doing so well, Blaine. I'm so proud of you. You're up in the scores so even if this goes all the rounds, you win this next round and the title is _yours_.'

Blaine merely nodded again, taking another drink of water from Martin. He looked out into the audience and his eyes fell on Kurt.

Kurt was looking right at him, eyes glowing. He locked eyes with Blaine and placed his hand over his heart, clearly mouthing 'I love you'. Blaine's heart grew warmer at the sight and he smiled at him.  
>Round three started then and Alexei was back and more murderous than ever. He swung viciously at Blaine, hitting him square in the eye. Blaine felt his eyebrow split open and blood gushed from the wound. He panicked internally – if the bleeding was too bad, he would have had to stop the fight.<p>

He tried to fight back but the blood was getting in the way and the ref seemed to notice, separating them and calling in the medic. Blaine groaned, not wanting the fight to end, as the medic wiped the blood away. He inspected the cut closely.

'No, no you're fine, it's shallow,' he assured him, smearing Vaseline over it to help stop the blood flow, 'you're good to fight.'

Blaine suppressed a grin and went back into the fight, fighting with a new vigor. He dodged hits – though not all of them, he knew he would be incredibly bruised in the morning – and sent punches and kicks of his own which he knew were really hurting Alexei. Suddenly, Alexei narrowed his eyes and shot Blaine a lethal look, pushing him back into the cage and kicking him right in the kidney with his heel, an illegal move which could do serious damage.

Blaine gasped, feeling a flash of pain tear through him. The crowd began to roar and jeer in disapproval, shouting at both Alexei and the ref, but the ref merely shook his head as though he hadn't seen anything at all.

Which was a lie, he was standing _right next to them_.

Blaine tried to regain his breath as he punched Alexei off him, his body burning with pain. He blinked back the water from his eyes and ignored the pain – he would win at whatever cost. This wouldn't stop him.

Alexei came towards him but whatever he was about to do was stopped by a swift, strong kick to his head. He stumbled backwards and Blaine, now rather annoyed that he was making it so personal, roundhouse kicked him, sending him to the floor.

And at a whim, he dove on top of him, Alexei's head slamming back into the ground as he had been in the process of getting up, and Blaine crashed his fist into his face repeatedly. There was a struggle and Alexei rolled out from under Blaine, kicking him away. He then dove on top of Blaine and smashed his fist into his face over and over again, and Blaine could feel himself beginning to get lightheaded as he tried in vain to push Alexei off. Instead, he wrestled his legs out from under Alexei and wrapped them around the boy's hips, hooking his feet at the back. Alexei tried to push Blaine off him, leaning back on his shins, but Blaine held on tight, sending a left hook straight into Alexei's chin.

Alexei scrambled backwards and now Blaine was on top of him, the cut above his eye beginning to drip blood slowly, his fists pounding into whatever he could reach.

He was then pulled off of Alexei – he hadn't realized that the bell had gone, and he went back to his corner, still fuming over the illegal kick.

Martin was waiting for him, looking both concerned and proud. He offered Blaine the water bottle and he poured it over his head, shaking the excess water from his head.

'You need to calm down,' Martin told him quietly, dipping his fingers into the Vaseline and smearing it over Blaine's cut. Blaine exhaled heavily through his nose but he nodded, knowing Martin was right. Martin shot him a concerned glance, 'keep fighting well, Blaine. You're doing great, okay? You're doing great.'

He left the cage then and round four was upon them. Alexei practically snarled at him as they met in the center and threw a ferocious punch which hit Blaine in the other eye – he knew it was going to bruise – and he staggered backwards. Alexei lunged at him, but Blaine stepped to the side and Alexei landed on his knees next to him. A light clicked on in Blaine's head and he grabbed him around the neck, pressing his forearm against Alexei's windpipe. He heard Alexei gasp for air and he squeezed tighter, hoping that he would submit, but he felt a sharp pain in his stomach a second later and dropped his hold on Alexei, who got to his feet and kicked Blaine square in the stomach.

Blaine fell back into the cage and Alexei was upon him, punching him savagely. Blaine ducked another hit and stepped to the side, swinging his arm and punching Alexei in the nose. He heard a sickening crunch and then a small cry of pain from Alexei, but the boy was relentless, turning and hitting Blaine as hard as he could.

Blaine was starting to feel sore and dizzy, but the fight was almost over and he was certain he was winning. Alexei looked tired too – he was swaying slightly and his face was a mess of blood and bruises, but still, they both pushed on.

It was literally a battle to the death.

But Blaine was determined to end it, and he summoned all the strength he had left in him and turned, kicking Alexei right in the head brutally. Alexei's head snapped back and Blaine kicked him again, and then grabbed his head and kneed him quickly in the head. He noticed Alexei was becoming more and more unsteady, and the punches he threw were becoming sloppier, and he knew he was heading towards a technical knockout at this rate.  
>But <em>he <em>wanted to be the one to knock him out, so he stepped backwards, coaxing Alexei away from the cage. They ended up near the center again and Blaine hopped around him lightly, making Alexei miss every punch he tried to throw. Then Blaine, the roaring and cheering of the crowd loud in his ears and Kurt's beautiful, proud face in his mind, spun and launched an absolutely flawless, powerful kick to his head.

And that was it.

Alexei crumpled to the floor and the ref rushed in, holding Blaine back just in case. Blaine blinked for a moment, not taking in what just happened, before it hit him.

He won.

He _won_.

The crowd was on their feet, hollering and screaming and bellowing their support. Blaine felt his face split into a grin as the door to the octagon was opened and Alexei was tended to, being taken over to the side so that he could recover. A second later, someone slammed into him. Martin had tackled him to the floor, shouting excitedly.

'You won, Blaine!' he screamed, 'you fucking did it!'

Blaine began to laugh, because how could he not? He got to his feet and Martin pulled him into a bone crushing hug just as the announcer stepped back into the cage. Alexei was coming to and was being helped to his feet; he looked beyond furious.

'Ladies and gentleman,' he announcer laughed breathlessly into his microphone, '_ladies and gentleman_, _what a fight! _That was an incredible effort from both boys – please show them how much you enjoyed that!'

The roof near blew off at the sound the audience made, and Blaine wondered how he wasn't deaf from the sheer noise. Martin shoved him into the center of the cage, where the ref was standing, as well as Alexei, who glared at Blaine viciously.

'Ladies and gentleman, the winner of the lightweight championship by knockout, _Blaine Anderson!'_

The ref hoisted Blaine's arm into the air and the room erupted in cheers once more, the sound alone making Blaine's blood pump furiously in his veins. He laughed again, feeling on top of the world, just as Martin hoisted him up onto his shoulder and he punched the air happily.

He was dropped to the ground and he turned to the entrance of the cage, seeing reporters and cameras flood in. He answered questions and made comments in a daze; he still couldn't believe what had happened – that he had _won_.

He was a champion now. He was _the _champion.

Music was being played and still he had to answer questions, but something caught his eye and he looked past the reporters, seeing Kurt standing at the door to the cage almost shyly, a small, proud smile on his face.

And Blaine, not caring that thousands were watching, pushed through the crowd and pulled Kurt into his arms, kissing him until they were both breathless. He expected the crowd to react negatively – not that he would care – but instead they simply cheered louder, a few whistles being heard amongst the screaming.

'I love you so much,' Kurt breathed, running his hands through Blaine's hair, 'I'm so, so proud of you.'

And then Blaine laughed and kissed him again, the feeling that was spreading through him was almost like a drug, sending him higher and higher.

Photographers clicked away at their cameras and reporters were trying to get a word with him, but Blaine knew that he could always do that later – there was another event after this one consisting of professionals and he knew the media wasn't going to go anywhere for a while. He pulled Kurt through the crowd, blowing a kiss to his friends as he passed them, and pulled Kurt into the corridor and into the locker room.

It was empty, and as soon as the door shut behind them Blaine smashed his lips against Kurt's, pulling him close. He was bloody and sweaty and in so much pain; he needed a little bit of quiet to regain his senses so that he could talk to whoever was waiting for him outside.

Kurt didn't seem to mind that Blaine was not in the best shape and pulled him impossibly close, kissing him deeply, running his hands gently over Blaine's slick body.

'I love you so much,' he breathed as Blaine broke the kiss and began trailing small kisses and bites down his neck. He moaned softly and brought Blaine up to kiss him again, desperately this time.

'I – I want to,' Blaine told him once they'd pulled apart from air, 'I want to give everything to you.'

'Not tonight,' Kurt told him breathlessly, 'when we're back in Lima. You need to rest tonight. I'm so proud of you.'

'I did it for you,' Blaine told him, 'and for mum, and for Martin. And especially for dad – but this was for you. When I saw you in the crowd tonight… it just made me fight so much better.'

'I love you,' Kurt smiled, kissing him softly again, 'but I think we should go back out there so that you can meet your adoring fans.'

And, still feeling elated, Blaine took Kurt's hand and led him back into the arena, where the hype still hadn't died down from the fight. The sounds and the excitement were almost overwhelming – he'd never felt so good, so happy in his life.

He made his way back to their friends where he was immediately surrounded; he couldn't even tell who was hugging him or kissing his cheek anymore, but he didn't care – he simply celebrated with his friends, adrenaline and pure joy coursing through his veins.

And then Kurt nudged him and gestured down by the cage, where a man in a grey suit was talking to Martin. The man looked up at Blaine and his eyes lit up and he motioned Blaine to come and join them.

Blaine knew that face.

He knew it _so _well, he had for years.

His name was Bernard Stanford and he was the president of the Ultimate Fighting Championship. Blaine felt his heart jump to his throat at the sight of him, at the sight of him waving him down.

Blaine's eyes widened and Kurt gave him a small push. Blaine slowly walked over to him, heart pounding in his chest at an erratic pace. This could be it – this could be the start of a professional career. His birthday was in a few weeks; he would be eighteen. This could be huge.

Martin grinned at him as he approached and Blaine felt some calmness wash over him. He had just defeated the best of the best in the featherweight decision; he would be able to handle a talk with the president of the UFC. He took a deep breath as he reached them, plastering a smile on his face.

He was ready.


	28. Chapter 28

'Blaine,' Martin grinned, pulling Blaine closer to him, 'Blaine, I'd like you to meet someone. This is –'

'Bernard Stanford.' Blaine supplied, unable to take his eyes off the influential man, who smiled at him.

'Blaine Anderson,' Bernard stuck his hand out and Blaine shook it, completely dazed, 'it's such an honor to meet the man of the hour.'

'Mr. Stanford and I were just talking about the fight,' Martin supplied, who nodded, still unable to form a coherent sentence. Bernard nodded.

'I liked what I saw, Blaine,' Bernard told him solemnly, 'I mean, I liked it a lot. You're an excellent fighter; one of the best junior featherweights I've come across in a long, long time.'

'Thank you,' Blaine breathed, pride bubbling up in his stomach. He couldn't believe that the president of UFC was saying _he _was good. This was beyond huge.

'And I was just talking with your coach here,' Bernard continued, 'I'm always looking for new talent to showcase in UFC, and I'm very interested in snapping you up before someone else does.'

Blaine blinked – this was too much.

'I'm – I'm not eighteen yet,' he told Bernard, and Martin scoffed.

'You'll be eighteen by the end of the month,' Martin reminded him, 'and we don't mean right now. When you're done with school and you can move down.'

'Move?' Blaine repeated, 'move where?'

'Nevada, of course,' Bernard replied, 'you know our headquarters are in Las Vegas, I'd like for you to move there – you and your family and your trainer, of course, so that you can train with us and fight. You wouldn't have to pay gym fees or anything – we'll have that covered. Your family can find a place to stay and you can stay near headquarters with some of the other fighters. We've got Evans, Porter and Frasse living in a house down there and I'm sure there would be no problems with you moving in, they love to mentor younger fighters.'

Blaine's eyes widened – Bernard had just named some of the biggest names in UFC and the idea was becoming more and more tempting.

He didn't even know why he was considering it – he should have been jumping at the opportunity; the chance to fight on international television against the best fighters in the world. It was what he'd been dreaming of since he was a child – what was stopping him?

'Look, Blaine, this is a really fantastic opportunity…' Martin told him, narrowing his eyes slightly, looking at him as though he'd gone insane. Blaine couldn't shake the feeling that by accepting he would be screwing something up, something important, but in the excitement he couldn't remember.

'Blaine, I'm offering you a contract,' Bernard told him softly, as though Blaine couldn't fully grasp what he was talking about, 'I'm offering for you to come down to Nevada, I'm offering you a job and a contract and an opportunity of a _lifetime_.'

Blaine bit his lip and glanced around at the arena, the people who were still excited, waiting for the next line up. This was what was waiting for him; the constant exhilaration, the energy, being _paid _to fight.

And as he looked around, his eyes fell on Kurt, and Kurt gave him a little wave. Blaine's heart dropped.

If he went to Nevada, he'd be leaving Kurt behind.

Kurt wanted to go to college in New York after their senior year and Blaine was planning on tagging along; he could have found a place to fight anywhere. They hadn't been dating long, of course, but Kurt was Blaine's best friend as well as his boyfriend, and he would have accompanied him anywhere.

'But – but what about Kurt?' Blaine asked softly, turning back to face them. Bernard frowned and Martin sighed, running his hand through his hair.

'What about Kurt, Blaine?' Martin asked, his voice slightly strained. Blaine knew that Martin would lecture him after this, for throwing away such an amazing opportunity for a relationship, but Blaine couldn't leave Kurt behind. Not anytime soon.

'I can't leave him behind,' Blaine replied, cursing himself for forgetting about Kurt, even for a moment. Martin sighed again.

'Blaine, do you realize how big of an opportunity this is?'

'Who's Kurt?'

Blaine turned to him, 'he's my boyfriend. I don't want to move to Nevada and leave him behind.'

There was a silence and Blaine was scared that Bernard would just leave at the mention of a boyfriend. But he bit his lip thoughtfully.

'Well, can't he come with you?'

'No,' Blaine sighed, 'he wants to go to college in New York. I don't think there's anything for him in Nevada.'

Bernard stared at him for a long moment and then shook his head.

'Look, Blaine, the offer is still open,' he told him, 'I'll leave my details with Martin and I'll have him call me when you've made your decision.'

Blaine nodded and Bernard locked eyes with him, giving him a hard, but not unfriendly, look.

'But what you need to figure out now,' he told him softly, 'what's more important – your dreams or a teenage relationship. I'll be in touch.'

With that, he walked away and Martin rounded on Blaine.

'What are you doing?' he hissed, 'are you seriously going to throw all this away for Kurt?'

'I love him,' Blaine told him weakly, his eyes filling with tears, 'I don't want to lose him. Not ever.'

Martin sighed heavily, 'it's up to you, Blaine. But I really think you should take this chance. You don't know when it will come again, alright? Go have a shower.'

And he walked away, leaving Blaine by himself. Despite all the good that had happened that night, he couldn't help but feel a little empty inside.

He trudged back to Kurt to tell him that he would be taking a shower, and Kurt pecked him on the lips.

'You've made me so proud tonight, Blaine,' Kurt told him, and it only served to make him feel worse. He gave him a weak smile and went into the changing rooms, taking a long shower, his mind whirring.

* * *

><p>They drove home, Blaine silent for most of the trip, blaming his silence on his fatigue. His muscles were aching, as was the cut on his eyebrow, and he was bruised and battered, both inside and out.<p>

He knew that he should take the contract, of _course_ he should, but he wouldn't be able to leave Kurt like that. He couldn't imagine how he would even tell him about the offer – he wouldn't put it past Kurt to start crying. And if Kurt cried, he would cry, and he would _not_ be able to leave.

He knew Martin would pressure him into accepting the offer, but if he did, he would never be able to forgive himself – and he couldn't imagine how hard it would be for him and Kurt to have a relationship on opposite sides of the country; especially while Kurt was in New York, which Blaine imagined would be teeming with attractive gay men who would snap him up in an instant.

He thoughts carried him all the way home. He noticed Kurt was almost falling asleep against the window and he bit his lip at the sight of him. Kurt was so beautiful, and he'd helped him through so much in such a short time – how could he just give that up as though he meant nothing to him.

Kurt sat up with a start as the car stopped outside of Blaine's house. Carole and Burt had allowed him to take the day off school the next day and Blaine had insisted that he stay over his house – either to celebrate or mope with him, depending on the outcome of the fight.

But even though Blaine had won, he didn't want to do anything but curl up with Kurt and fall asleep. He took Kurt's hand and they went inside together, heading straight upstairs to get changed. After they had gotten ready for bed, Blaine slumped onto his bed, looking troubled.

'Tired?' Kurt asked, coming to sit down next to him. Blaine took his hand straight away, running his thumb over Kurt's knuckles. Kurt leaned his head on Blaine's shoulder.

'Are you feeling okay?' he asked softly. Blaine sighed.

'Yeah, just… overwhelmed.' he replied quietly, 'a lot has happened tonight. I mean, I _won_ the fight, Kurt. I won.'

Kurt smiled, 'I know, you've made us all so proud, Blaine. Who knows where you could be going with fighting now? You've got the world ahead of you.'

Blaine bit his lip.

'Let's – let's lay down,' he suggested, pulling Kurt under the covers with him. They lay together in silence for a while, Blaine holding onto him a little tighter than he usually would as though Kurt would disappear at any given moment.

'You never told me what you and the man in the suit were talking about,' Kurt spoke up suddenly, 'who was he?'

'That was Bernard Stanford,' Blaine replied quietly, 'he's – he's the president of UFC.'

Kurt tilted his head so that he could smile at Blaine.

'That's wonderful,' he commented happily, 'what did you guys talk about?'

Blaine hesitated then, and didn't reply. Kurt frowned and sat up.

'What's wrong, Blaine?' he asked softly, 'you've been too quiet for someone who has just won a championship.'

Blaine sighed and sat up.

'He offered me a contract,' he told him, and saw that Kurt's eyes had lit up, 'he – he offered for me to come and fight for him.'

'Oh, Blaine that wo–'

'In Nevada, Kurt. He wants me to fight in Nevada after graduation.'

Kurt's face fell, and it was possibly the most heartbreaking thing Blaine had ever seen. He figured out what that mean, what it could mean for them.

'That's – that's great,' he smiled weakly, 'you said yes, didn't you?'

'I said I'd think about it.' Blaine admitted, and Kurt frowned.

'Why didn't you say yes?' Kurt asked, looking surprised, 'I mean, it's obviously a huge opportunity and–'

Blaine exhaled sharply.

'Of course I said I'll think about it,' he told him, feeling suddenly annoyed, 'don't play dumb, Kurt, you know what that means for us if you go to New York and I go to Nevada. You know what it means for our relationship.'

'We could try –'

'_Kurt_,' Blaine sighed, 'no. Okay, I know you're hopeful that it would work but it _wouldn't_. It would be too hard and we're far too young and it just… wouldn't work.'

Kurt's eyes filled with tears and Blaine took his hand.

'And I don't want to live a life where I'm not able to fall asleep in your arms every night,' he told him softly, his voice cracking slightly, 'I don't want to not be able to kiss you in the morning or go out for coffee with you during the evenings. I don't want a life without you, Kurt, no matter how short we've been dating, and _that's_ why I said I'll think about it.'

A tear fell from Kurt's eye and he took a deep, shuddering breath.

'I love you,' he told him firmly, 'and we're going to figure this out, but I _want_ you to take this chance because you don't know when it will happen again and I _refuse _to hold you back. You've been working towards this your whole life. I don't want you to not take this because of me. We'll work something out – we still have the rest of – of the school year together.'

Blaine felt as though someone had stabbed him in the chest – he didn't _want _to leave Kurt. They had to work something out; they had to. He could feel the tears begin to fall quickly and he saw Kurt was starting to cry too, and he threw his arms around his boyfriend and pulling him close.

'I love you,' he breathed, rocking them back and forward gently, 'I love you more than anything and I'm _not _giving you up. Not for all the chances in the world.'

They merely held each other for a long while, crying softly. After a while, Kurt pulled away and wiped his eyes.

'No,' he sniffed, a stern expression crossing his face, 'we're not going to sit here and cry. We're going to enjoy our time left with each other and – and I don't care. I'll go to Nevada instead of New York if I have to. We're going to make this work and we're going to stop feeling sorry for ourselves. You just won a championship fight, Blaine, you can make anything happen. Including us. And we _will_ because I love you more than anything in the world and I'm going to fight for you.'

And Blaine realized that Kurt was so, so right and he wiped his eyes, nodding resolutely. They would make it work; they'd both been through so much and this was just another thing to fight for, and fighting was what he was best at.

So he kissed Kurt firmly, hoping that Kurt could feel what he was feeling, that he knew that Blaine agreed and that they would fight for them. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and kissed back deeply, losing himself in the kiss, pushing Blaine back against the pillows and straddling him, never once breaking the kiss.

Eventually they pulled away, breathing heavily, and their eyes locked, pupils dark and filled with nothing but love.

'I want to do this,' Kurt told him firmly, 'if – if we might not have much time left – left together –'

'Don't,' Blaine shook his head and tried not to cry again, 'don't even mention that right now.'

Kurt nodded and kissed him softly again.

'I want to,' he repeated softly, 'I – I need this. We need this.'

And Blaine nodded, feeling slightly nervous, but he knew that they were both ready for this now than ever. He pulled Kurt towards him, and the moment their lips met, he knew they were making the right decision.

* * *

><p>'I love you.'<p>

'I should hope so,' Kurt chuckled, 'especially after what just happened.'

Blaine smiled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of Kurt's head, tightening his grip on his boyfriend. It had been awkward, and slightly uncomfortable, and he imagined it was slightly more uncomfortable for Kurt, but it was the best thing he'd ever experienced in his life. It had been slow and careful and so full of love that Blaine's heart ached even thinking about it, and he felt a surge of pure love for the boy lying in his arms.

'That was amazing, you know,' Kurt murmured, and Blaine could hear the smile in his voice, 'that was the greatest thing I've ever done and I'm so, so glad we could do that. I – I haven't felt so connected to someone like this… ever.'

'Me either,' Blaine agreed, kissing his hair again, 'and I love you so much. And – I'm so glad I met you, Kurt. God knows where I would be without you.'

Kurt smiled and nuzzled his face into Blaine's chest, pressing a soft kiss against the skin there.

'We'll get through this, you know,' Kurt assured him, and he sounded sleepy now, 'I know we will, because we're all we need and I believe in us. I believe in us with all our heart.'

Blaine stroked his hair and eventually Kurt's breath evened out, and Blaine knew he was asleep. He stared up at the ceiling for a while longer, thinking hard.

He still felt a little thrill from winning his fight; that was a feeling he couldn't squash. He also felt excited at the prospect of the contract, but also a little empty that he had to make such a difficult decision.

He didn't want to give Kurt up, but he didn't want to miss out on this. This was something he'd only ever dreamed of and he knew that it would make his mother and Martin extremely proud. He knew that Kurt would be proud, too, but he wasn't ready to let go of his first love so easily.

But above all else, he just felt filled with love. The night had been the best of his life – winning the title, being able to share something so meaningful with the boy he loved. He hadn't felt this good since way before his father had died.

He smiled at the thought.

He knew that his father was proud of him, wherever he was. This was the dream that they'd built for themselves and he was finally making it come true. Blaine bit his lip, and in that moment, the decision became a whole lot easier. He knew what he had to go.

And with that thought, he pulled Kurt closer and closed his eyes, his body finally overcome with exhaustion from the day's events. He would deal with everything in the morning – right now, he just wanted to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Should I make a sequel? I don't know if I should. I'm planning on finishing this within the next few chapters - I can't just do two. I can't end it so soon, this story is like my baby. :L but I don't know if I should make a sequel.<br>Let me know, guys! I'm totally stuck here!  
><strong>


	29. Chapter 29

Kurt and Blaine woke early the next morning, their emotions mixed from the night before. On one hand, they were elated – from both the result of Blaine's fight and from having taken the next step in their relationship. On the other hand, they were feeling a little upset at the prospect of Blaine possibly moving away. Kurt was already trying to figure out what he was going to do; he didn't know if there were any good colleges in Nevada that focused on theatre – if there was one, he would drop his plans to go to New York instantly; Blaine was far more important to him.

He wouldn't dare let Blaine refuse the offer – even he knew that this was something that came around once in a lifetime; Blaine was still so, so young and he was already being snapped up by the largest mixed martial arts companies in the world. It was a really big deal.

They stayed in bed for most of the morning, Blaine incredibly achy from the fight. His body was littered in bruises, including a dark one right under his eye, as well as the cut on his other eyebrow.

'You look awful,' Kurt commented, running his finger lightly over the bruise under Blaine's eye, 'do you want me to go and get you some painkillers or something?'

Blaine's head was pounding and his whole body hurt, so he nodded weakly, slumping back against the pillows. Kurt hopped out of bed and headed downstairs into the kitchen, where Martin was sitting with a man in a suit, looking absolutely ecstatic as they looked over some sort of documents.

Kurt, knowing by now where everything was kept, went to the appropriate cabinet, trying not to eavesdrop on Martin's conversation. However, the man looked beside himself with excitement and Kurt was scared that the paperwork had something to do with Blaine's new career.

He bit his lip and went to the fridge for a bottle of water and went upstairs without looking back. Whatever it was, he was sure Blaine would tell him about it later.

'There's a man downstairs in your kitchen with Martin,' he announced, handing Blaine the painkillers and the bottle of water. Blaine downed the pills and wiped his mouth, frowning.

'A man?' he repeated, sounding confused, 'do you know who?'

Kurt shook his head, 'I have no idea; they're looking over paperwork and stuff. He's in a suit so I'm assuming it's something important.'

His sentence began to sound offhand at the end and Blaine knew that he was thinking about the contract Blaine had been offered. But Blaine knew that Martin wouldn't accept anything without seriously talking it over with Blaine, so he frowned.

'Perhaps I should see what's going on…' he muttered, throwing the covers back and swinging his legs out of bed. He winced at the sharp pain that shot through his body and Kurt bit his lip, looking concerned. Blaine smiled weakly at him, 'I'm okay. Just really sore. I'll be a minute.'

He went downstairs and on his way down, he ran into Martin, who looked as though someone had just handed him a million dollars.

'You look happy,' Blaine commented, peering over Martin's shoulder at the man in the kitchen. He didn't recognize him, which only served to confuse him more. Martin beamed at him and thrust a piece of paper in his face.

'This.'

Blaine raised his eyebrow and nodded slowly, 'yes Martin. That. What is that?'

Martin's grin widened until Blaine feared his face would split into two. He handed Blaine the paper and looked rather proud of himself.

'_That_,' he elaborated, his voice much higher than usual with excitement, 'is my father's will.'

'I thought your father's will was basically a bad thing?' Blaine asked, scanning the page, not really taking any of it in. He looked up at Martin who made a small noise of disagreement.

'Psh! It may have been a bad thing _once_,' he replied, waving his hand around, 'but not this one. This is my father's _revised _will; the one that my mother had been hiding from me.'

Blaine cocked an eyebrow at him in interest; if this was a different will, a newer one that would mean that the contents could have been changed, which could mean something good for Martin.

'And in this will, according to my lawyer,' Martin continued, and Blaine glanced over his shoulder again at the man in the kitchen, 'has just informed me that here, my father has left me _everything._'

'Everything?'

'Everything.' Martin confirmed, nodding, his smile still bright, 'now, of course mum fucked off with most of it by now; I'm pretty sure she's sold the house and there's a lot of legal shit I have to get into apparently, but the gym is mine. _Blaine_, we got our gym back!'

And Blaine couldn't help but smile at the thought, and he stepped forward and hugged Martin tightly, ignoring how his muscles ached in protest. Training at the gym wasn't the same after it had been taken from Martin; not because he had to pay to use it now, but it had lost the homely feel it had. Blaine had noticed that the regulars that used the gym had slowly begun to come less and less, and he knew it was because Martin's mother ran it horribly; she was rude to the customers and overcharged them horribly. Now that Martin was back, the people would be, too.

'I knew it would work out!' Martin exclaimed, releasing Blaine, 'I was wondering if you wanted to come to Westerville with me so that we could kick her out – both out of my life _and_ my gym.'

Blaine nodded and went upstairs to get changed. Kurt was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and sat up when he heard footsteps approaching. Blaine grinned at him.

'So who was that?' Kurt asked, turning to face Blaine. Blaine's grin widened.

'We got the gym back!' he announced, walking to his wardrobe to pull some clothes out, 'Martin's lawyer got a hold of his dad's will – like, the _actual_ will and he's been left everything – which means the gym.'

He heard Kurt squeal behind him; honestly, he felt like squealing a little himself. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt, and on a whim, crossed the room and kissed Kurt soundly.

'What was that for?' Kurt smiled after Blaine had pulled away. Blaine shrugged and grinned.

'I just love you so much,' he replied, going into the bathroom to change. He looked at himself in the mirror and frowned at his appearance; he looked as though someone had thrown him through the garbage disposal. But he didn't care, and he changed quickly and went back out to Kurt, who was fixing his hair in the reflection of his phone. He dropped the phone when he saw Blaine and held his arms out, and Blaine went and hugged him.

'I'm so happy for you!' Kurt told him, kissing the top of his head, 'but what does this mean for Nevada? Wasn't Martin going to go with you?'

Blaine frowned – he hadn't considered that; and Martin obviously hadn't either.

'I don't know,' he replied honestly, 'I mean, I guess I could go and he could stay here but that wouldn't exactly be… ideal.'

'Or maybe you just won't go to Nevada.'

There was a small, slightly awkward silence and Blaine bit his lip, releasing Kurt. He wanted to go to Nevada more than anything, he really did.

'Did – did you look at schools down in Nevada?' he asked quietly, 'you know… on your phone or something?'

Kurt shrugged, 'no. Not really. I – I mean, I'm still pretty set on New York…'

Blaine opened his mouth to reply and then closed it. It would be ridiculous to expect Kurt to drop his dreams just like that for Blaine; they hadn't even been dating that long. He nodded instead, and took his boyfriend's hand and squeezed it. They would be okay. There was still time to think it through.

'Let's go downstairs,' Blaine suggested softly, and Kurt nodded. He couldn't bear to think that these would be the last few months he would be getting with such an amazing boy.

They went downstairs, where Martin was pacing impatiently.

'Come on, guys,' he urged, looking as if he would float off the ground at any given moment, 'come on, we have to get to the gym!'

The ride there was one filled with excitement, much like it had been yesterday as they were driving to the fight, only this time Blaine leaned his head against the window, Kurt leaning against him in his arms, exhausted beyond belief, while Martin chattered happily in the front seat, his lawyer sitting next to him. He seemed to be driving a little faster than usual, and while it worried Blaine a little, he could hardly blame him. He knew that Martin was getting his life back by getting the gym back.

They made it to the gym in record time, and Martin practically jumped through the windscreen to get inside. Kurt, Blaine and the lawyer followed at a more reasonable pace; Blaine couldn't really move quickly because of his injuries. They made it inside and saw Martin looking around the gym, tears in his eyes, a wistful smile on his face. It had only been a few weeks, but he had missed the gym more than anything. Staying with Blaine had been wonderful, but this was where he belonged.

Blaine watched fondly as Martin walked slowly over to a cage, stepping inside and running his hands over the wall of it. He spun around and smiled and Blaine nodded once at him, Martin returning the nod with another smile.

'Excuse me, what are you doing?'

They spun around at the voice and Blaine's expressing immediately fell flat. Martin shrugged nonchalantly.

'Checking out my gym,' he replied, as though it wasn't a big deal. His mother narrowed her eyes at him.

'I think you'll find that this is my gym,' she retorted, 'and if you're planning on using the facilities, you can either pay me now or get out.'

Martin's eyes narrowed at the bite in her tone, but he stepped out of the cage anyway and unfolded a piece of paper he'd taken out of his pocket.

'I think you'll find that this is _my_ gym,' he informed her, walking towards her to show her the will, 'as was everything else dad owned – which you sold without my consent. We'll be talking about those details later, but for now, I want you to get out of my gym and never set foot in it again.'

He waved the will in front of her face and she snatched it from his hand, eyes scanning the page quickly.

'I don't believe it.' she announced, folding her arms across her chest, 'you forged this somehow.'

'Actually,' the lawyer stepped forward, and the people training around them begun to look on in interest, 'you'll find that the will is valid. What you used to obtain the gym was an outdated version from before you and your husband divorced and you failed to inform us of a change in his will after he died. For that, you'll be facing serious legal action; to do with how you will pay Mr. Ortiz for the money you obtained from selling assets that essentially belonged to him. But for now, if he is ordering you to get off his property, I suggest you do so immediately.'

'I will carry you out of here if you don't move,' Martin added, raising his eyebrows at his mother. She rounded on him.

'How could you do this to me?' she hissed, 'your own mother – how could you take _legal_ action against your own mother.'

Blaine raised his eyebrows at the statement; he'd never come across someone so hypocritical before. Martin laughed mockingly.

'Oh, the same way you threw me out of my _own_ gym?' he asked sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest, 'the same way you threw me out – no money, no job, nothing? You're not family to me anymore; you're not my mother. So get the hell out of my gym – I never want to see you again.'

They eyed each other for a moment, looking as though they were about to tear each other apart. Blaine felt oddly conflicted inside; he was glad that Martin was standing up to his mother, but he was upset that it had to come to that. He couldn't imagine kicking his mother out of his life forever; he loved her far too much to even consider it. He must have looked a little torn on the outside, because he felt Kurt's hand slip into his and squeeze it reassuringly. Blaine smiled quickly at Kurt before turning back to the spectacle before him.

'Fine,' Martin's mother laughed scathingly, 'fine. Have your stupid little gym back. But just know that you're only succeeding here because you can't succeed _anywhere_ else. This pathetic excuse for a job is all you'll ever know. No one is ever going to love a failure like you – I certainly never did.'

Blaine mouth dropped open and he watched Martin's expression fall. His mother merely smirked at him and stormed out of the gym. There was a heavy silence and Blaine felt his heart sink.

He let go of Kurt's hand and walked over to Martin slowly. He could see the tears in the man's eyes and without another thought, threw his arms around him and pulled him close, feeling Martin sink against him, beginning to cry softly.

'We love you,' Blaine murmured, rubbing Martin's back as he continued to cry, 'me and mum, and Kurt… and – and dad. And everyone in this gym. We all love you.'

He heart Martin sniff and he pulled away from him, wiping his eyes.

'Thank you.' he whispered, and Blaine nodded, 'I just – it hurts, you know?'

Blaine clapped him on his shoulder.

'Who cares about her? You have all of us.' he declared, smiling softly, 'not to mention this amazing gym is yours again.'

Martin nodded and smiled weakly.

'You're right,' he agreed, 'I have my gym back. I'm just – I'll be in my office, if that's okay.'

Blaine nodded, understanding that Martin needed a moment, and Martin smiled at him, heading towards his office. Blaine walked back to Kurt, who pulled him in for a kiss.

'I'm proud of you,' he told him quietly, 'I'm proud of how you handled that.'

Blaine kissed his cheek and took Kurt's hand, looking around at the gym that he'd practically grown up in. Even though it had been mere minutes after Martin's mother had left, the place already felt more like home, more welcoming. He'd really missed it; he would miss it so much if he went to Nevada.

* * *

><p>Blaine took Kurt out for coffee while Martin reacquainted himself with his gym, and they ambled around a park slowly together. People were either at work or at school, so the park was empty, and they enjoyed the solitude, hands clasped, not even having to talk.<p>

But out of nowhere, Kurt stopped and he burst into tears, dropping his cup of coffee on the floor, where the remainder of it spilled on the path. Blaine set his down next to him and wrapped his arms around Kurt.

'What's wrong, baby?' he asked softly, kind of taken aback at the amount of comforting he was doing in such a short amount of time. He felt Kurt begin to shake against him and he peered over his boyfriend's head, spotting a park bench, and leading him over to it gently, sitting them down and pulling him back into his arms.

'I – I don't want to leave you,' Kurt sobbed, hugging Blaine tightly, 'I want to go to New York but I don't want to go anywhere without you. I – I don't want t-to leave you. E-ever. I l-love you s-so much and I j-just can't.'

Blaine felt his heart sink again and tears pricked at his own eyes, but he blinked them away quickly.

'We'll be alright,' Blaine promised, 'I haven't agreed to anything yet, okay? We'll work something out.'

'B-but I want you t-to go to N-Nevada.' Kurt told him tearfully, looking up at him, 'I – I want t-the world t-to see how a-amazing you a-are. I just don't want u-us to end.'

Blaine sighed, 'I'm not leaving you. I'll never let you go, Kurt. If I go to Nevada and you to New York, we can always try long distance.'

'What if you m-meet someone else?' Kurt asked in a small voice. Blaine shook his head.

'Absolutely not,' he replied immediately, tracing his fingers over Kurt's heart, 'I love you more than anything, and no one will ever replace you.'

Kurt didn't look convinced and Blaine pouted softly.

'Look, until I get really well known, it'll be hard,' he admitted, now talking more to himself than to Kurt, 'I'm not going to lie. But when I get big, I'll only fight a few times a year. Until then, I can fight like, I dunno, once a month. If it comes to it, I don't even have to live in Nevada. I can go to New York and fly down for fights.'

And with that revelation, he sat up straight, eyes lighting up.

'Kurt.'

'What?'

'I don't have to go to Nevada.'

'What?'

'I don't have to go to Nevada,' he repeated, smiling widely, 'I can go to New York with you.'

'How?' Kurt asked, sitting up and wiping his eyes. Blaine clapped his hands excitedly.

'I don't technically have to live in Nevada to fight there,' he replied, 'I mean, people come from all over the world to fight, so it won't matter if I live in New York. Sure, it would be more convenient if I lived in Nevada, but I don't have to actually live there. It's only like, what, a four hour flight? Maybe a little more. I can get a job in New York and I can fly down for flights and it's okay. I don't have to leave you.'

Kurt processed the information for a moment before smiling brightly. He threw his arms around Blaine and laughed happily.

'This is perfect!' he squealed, and Blaine hugged back tightly, 'I – I didn't know what I would have done without you. Even New York would have sucked without you there.'

Blaine knew that it would be a little more complicated than just throwing everything aside and moving to New York with Kurt instead of Nevada, but he knew that it would work out as long as he actually fought for Bernard Stanford, it would work out. He had a lot to discuss with both him and Martin but he knew it would work out. It would be okay.

He kissed Kurt then, long and full of love. He had never felt so complete than he did with his boyfriend in his arms – since his dad died, there had been a void in his life, and Kurt filled it rather nicely. He didn't want to lose the security Kurt brought because he didn't know how he would cope without him. The fact that they would be able to stay together after graduation was more than enough to make everything in his life seem perfect.

'Should we go and tell Martin?' Kurt asked after a moment. Blaine hesitated – he knew he was in for a lecture when he told him, but he didn't want to put it off. He nodded and they left the park, walking back to the gym, both feeling more than a little excited.

Martin was in his office, as Blaine had predicted, and he asked Kurt to stay behind and let Blaine talk to Martin privately. He pushed the door open all the way – as usual, it wasn't shut – and cleared his throat.

'Can I talk to you?' he asked, closing the door behind him. Martin nodded and gestured to the seat in front of the desk. Blaine sat down, feeling a little nervous.

'I –' Blaine started, but was cut off.

'You want to talk about the contract,' Martin supplied, and Blaine nodded.

'How did you know?'

'I've known you all your life,' he smiled, 'I can tell when you want to talk about something important.'

Blaine nodded and there was a silence.

'So,' Martin continued, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them, 'what about the contract?'

'I want to take it,' Blaine replied instantly, and he saw a small smile appear on Martin's lips, 'I mean, I _really, really_ want this. This is everything I've ever dreamed of.'

'That's excellent, Blaine,' Martin grinned, 'I'll just call Bernard and –'

'I'm not moving to Nevada.'

There was a silence, and Martin sighed.

'I knew this would happen,' he groaned softly, running his hands over his face and looking back at Blaine, 'why not?'

'I want to go to New York,' Blaine told him resolutely, 'and don't try to convince me otherwise. I'm not leaving Kurt.'

'Blaine, I don't think that –'

'Would you leave mum?' Blaine interrupted, looking at Martin coolly, 'would you seriously just move to the other side of America and leave her?'

Martin hesitated, 'this – I – this isn't about your mother and I. We're not even together.'

'You wouldn't.'

Martin opened his mouth to disagree, but knew he couldn't. He sighed.

'It'll be expensive,' he told Blaine, 'and it'll be hard. Training will be harder – I'm not moving to New York with you if you go.'

'I don't expect you to,' Blaine replied lightly, 'especially now that you have the gym back, I don't want you to give that up. You and mum can stay here and Kurt and I will go to New York. For fights, I'll fly down to Nevada. I can train wherever I go, there are always gyms around.'

'Blaine, you have to really think about this. It's life changing,' Martin reminded him, 'you're not a kid anymore, okay?'

'Look, the bigger my name becomes in UFC, the less I'll fight, right? It'll only be a few times a year, and that means there is absolutely _no_ reason for me to live in Nevada if I'll only be there for a few days at a time every half a year or so.'

'Even so, where will you get the money for flights?' Martin asked, 'or for rent in New York? It's not cheap, you know.'

'I'll get a job.' Blaine replied firmly, 'working isn't a problem for me. I'll be paid to fight, too.'

'You won't be paid much to start,' Martin told him, 'I was only paid a few thousand in the beginning.'

'But still, a few thousand will cover a ticket,' Blaine replied, 'it'll more than cover a ticket. And I'll have a job, so fighting will just bring in extra money. And it's not like I won't get paid more – I mean, I'm _good_! I know I am, I'll make it big in UFC. Please, Martin, just… let me do this.'

Martin sighed, and then there was silence. He regarded Blaine carefully for a moment.

'You have your father's attitude,' he commented after a moment, and Blaine smiled, 'he was a stubborn fuck, too.'

'So that's a yes?'

Another sigh, 'yes, Blaine. You have my blessing.'

Blaine grinned and made to stand, but Martin stopped him.

'Sit,' he ordered, and Blaine dropped back into his chair, 'okay look. You'll go to New York, and the first thing you're going to do is get a job – and find a gym, okay?'

Blaine nodded once.

'And I'll help you,' Martin continued, sounding a little defeated, 'financially, I mean. Until you get on your feet – after that, you're on your own. Or you can ask your mother for money if you need it, I daresay she would buy you half of New York if you asked her nicely enough. But Blaine –'

Blaine sat up at the tone – Martin sounded as though he was warning him; he knew that he had to pay attention to this.

'_Don't_ fuck around,' Martin advised, sounding completely serious, 'I know how exciting it'll be – you're going to New York with your boyfriend on your own and it has to be the most amazing thing to have happened to you. But don't blow this – you've been offered a huge, huge opportunity and you can't let it go by messing around, okay? Soon enough you're going to have a _career_, Blaine. People are going to know you – your life is going to get so much better; but it's going to be dangerous and it's going to be something you have to take really, really seriously. I won't be there to keep track of your trainings, _you_ need to take the initiative and make sure you eat right and train. Blaine, I'm not going to be there for you anymore, alright? Promise me you'll do this right.'

And of course Blaine promised, because even the thought of disappointing Martin was heartbreaking. He nodded and then walked over to the other side of the desk to embrace Martin.

'Your father would have been proud of you, you know?' Martin told him, and Blaine nodded mutely, knowing his father would have been overjoyed at the outcome of the fight, 'not just the fight – how much you've matured in the past few months. You've made us all proud.'

'Thank you.'

'I'll call Bernard now and explain everything and arrange a meeting. You can go out and do whatever; I'll text you when I need you back here to go home.'

Blaine nodded and left the office, feeling rather excited. He knew that thing would work out – he couldn't just leave Kurt, there had to be some sort of force keeping them together. He smiled as he saw Kurt sitting on the steps of one of the cages, waiting patiently for him.

'How'd it go?' Kurt asked him as Blaine approached him. Blaine grinned.

'Martin's okay with it,' he replied, 'I mean, he's not thrilled – and he's certainly not coming with us – but he's okay. He's going to call Bernard now and arrange a meeting.'

'That's wonderful!' Kurt grinned, kissing Blaine's cheek softly as Blaine sat next to him, 'you and I together and New York – there isn't a better combination in the world.'

Blaine hummed in agreement and Kurt turned to him, now looking serious.

'Thank you.'

'What for?' Blaine asked, frowning slightly.

'Thank you for giving Nevada up for me,' Kurt replied solemnly, 'that must have been such a hard decision for you to make.'

'It was easy,' Blaine told him, smiling softly, 'I would never want to spend my life away from you.'

Kurt smiled at him and kissed him softly, Blaine pulling him close, beyond glad that he wouldn't have to leave Kurt anytime soon. He reveled in the fact that these kisses and hugs would be something he would wake up to every day for a long time; preferably for the rest of his life. Kurt had no idea just how big of an impact he'd had on Blaine's life, and soon they'd be starting their own life together – it was something that elated and terrified him all at once.

He was determined to do it right though – all of it. He was going to make something out of his fighting career and he was going to make something out of his relationship with Kurt.

It would be hard, he knew that, but it would be so worth it and he found himself becoming more eager for the school year to finish with every passing minute. This was only the beginning of the rest of his life, and he was determined to make it as good as he could. The prospect of getting his own place, of fighting for a living, of being able to provide for the boy he loved was something more than he could have ever hoped for, and with that thought, he kissed Kurt soundly, not letting him out of his arms for an instant until they had to go home.


	30. Chapter 30

Blaine's cup of coffee sat in front of him, untouched, growing colder as time went on. He was far too excited to drink it as he talked animatedly with Bernard Stanford while Martin looked over a stack of papers.

' – it was a good fight, of course,' Blaine rambled happily, while Barnard nodded along, 'I just think that Freeman should have won that; I mean, Terrance's submission was spectacular, honestly that was an amazing triangle choke, but Freeman had the upper hand the _entire _fight, he didn't give Terrance room to breathe –'

'Excuse me, what about the pay?' Martin interjected, looking up from the paperwork he was going over. Bernard smiled.

'His payment will be subject to change, of course,' he replied, and Blaine felt his stomach churn excitedly, 'the more successful he becomes, the more I'll pay him, of course. To begin with, I'll pay him three thousand dollars a fight and he'll fight maybe once a month. Is that okay?'

Blaine's eyes widened – three thousand dollars a fight? He could have kissed Bernard then and there.

Martin nodded once and turned back to the contract, his eyes skimming over the writing quickly. Blaine turned back to Bernard, who smiled at him.

'Are you excited?' he asked, and Blaine nodded, a smile stretching over his face, 'I've informed the boys in the house that you'll be moving down and –'

'Oh, I'm not moving,' Blaine interrupted, feeling slightly sheepish. Bernard raised an eyebrow at him.

'You're going to be staying in Ohio?' he asked, sounding taken aback, 'why on earth would you stay in Ohio?'

Blaine shook his head, 'I'm not. I'm moving to New York with my boyfriend. I… hope that doesn't change anything.'

Bernard looked contemplative for a moment and he laced his fingers together, propping his elbows up on the table and resting his chin on his hands.

'Look,' he started, and Blaine suddenly felt a little nervous – for all he knew, Bernard could be giving him an ultimatum, 'I don't care if you live New York or not. You can live on the moon for all I care; as long as at the end of the day, you're fighting for me.'

Blaine grinned at him and Martin looked up from the papers.

'Well, this all seems to be in order,' he announced, 'I'm assuming you just need Blaine to sign this and everything will be set?'

'That's the plan,' Bernard nodded, smiling at Blaine. Blaine smiled back, his stomach suddenly twisting with nerves. Martin pushed the stack of papers across to him and Blaine bit his lip as he looked at the print, taking none of it in. He could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest.

'Um, I don't have a pen,' he announced to nobody in particular, still looking down at the contract, his voice shaky. A pen was placed in front of him and he took it, noticing that his hand was trembling slightly. He looked up at Martin, who smiled softly at him.

'All you have to do is sign, Blaine,' he told him quietly, 'just there, on the line at the bottom.'

Blaine glanced back at the paper and hesitated. His whole future rested on this page, in these words.

'Blaine, if you're not ready for this, you don't have to do anything.'

Blaine looked up at Bernard, who had spoken. He was looking at him with a soft expression. Blaine knew he wasn't being pressured – this was entirely his decision. He wished Kurt was there with him.

His eyes welled up with tears out of nowhere because with a rush, he realized this was _exactly _what he wanted, what he was ready for. He'd been working for this his whole life and now it was being laid out in front of him on a silver platter – the opportunity of a lifetime. He had to sign on a little black line and his whole future would be set. He would fight for the biggest fighting organization in the world. He would be making Martin, his mother, Kurt, all of them proud.

And his father. Especially his father. His father was the reason he fought.

He clicked the pen and wiped his eyes as discreetly as he could with the other hand, poising the pen over the line.

_This is it, Blaine, _he thought determinedly, _no regrets now._

He signed his name quickly and pushed the contract towards Bernard, who beamed at him and slid the papers into his briefcase.

'It's been a pleasure doing business with you,' he told Blaine, extending his hand over the table for Blaine to shake, before offering it to Martin, 'now, I would love to stay and talk but I really have to get back to Nevada tonight, so if you'll excuse me…'

'Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Stanford,' Martin stood as Bernard started to pack his things away. Blaine stood too and Bernard turned to look at him, smiling.

'Blaine, I'm looking forward to working with you,' he told him sincerely, and Blaine nodded, 'I'll keep in touch – I'll be calling you regularly until you graduate and then we'll fly you over for a week or two so that you can become accustomed to how things will work when you're fighting in Nevada.'

'Thank you so much for this opportunity,' Blaine replied, slightly breathless, 'I won't let you down.'

Bernard winked at him, 'I know you won't. Martin, Blaine, I'll be in touch.'

With that, he left, and Blaine fell back into his seat, sighing heavily.

'I can't believe I just did that,' he breathed, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes to stop the tears which were threatening to overflow. He couldn't believe this was happening – it felt so surreal.

'You alright, Blaine?' Martin asked, and Blaine could feel him sit down next to him. A second later, Martin's arm was around him, and Blaine couldn't hold the tears back.

'This is s-so crazy,' he muttered, wiping his eyes, 'I can't believe that just happened. I can't believe I just signed a contract to fight in UFC.'

'Of course you did,' Martin replied with a light laugh, 'you're amazing and you're incredibly talented. Of course you did.'

'This is so huge,' Blaine shook his head, looking up, 'this is major.'

'Well, it's life changing, yeah.'

'I need to see dad.'

There was a silence and Martin cocked his head to the side.

'You know you can't see –'

'No,' Blaine shook his head again, his voice dropping, 'I – I want to visit his grave, you know?'

Martin bit his lip – he wouldn't say no, of course, but the idea of Blaine having to visit his father at a cemetery at such a young age was heartbreaking. He sighed.

'I wish he was here to see this,' he admitted softly, and Blaine's expression fell. There was a silence.

'Okay, no, we can't mope around,' Blaine told him after a moment, looking determined, 'I just signed the biggest contract of my _life_. Martin, we did it. We fucking did it!'

And as the realization of exactly what had just happened settled in, Martin and Blaine grinned at the same time and threw their arms around each other, embracing each other tightly.

'I am _so_ proud of you,' Martin told him, squeezing him. Blaine spluttered as he tried to inhale.

'Air, Martin!' he chuckled, pushing Martin off of him, 'we should get out of here – go home and celebrate with mum and Kurt.'

* * *

><p>'What was so important, Blaine? I – mmf!'<p>

Whatever Kurt was going to say was cut off by Blaine kissing him firmly on the lips. He smiled at him when they pulled apart.

'What was that for?' he asked, shrugging his coat off and throwing it across the back of one of the chairs in the living room. Blaine beamed at him.

'I did it.' he told him simply. Kurt frowned.

'You did it?' he repeated, and Blaine simply smiled, waiting for him to catch on, 'you did it… you did… _oh my god_, you signed the contract?'

Blaine nodded excitedly and Kurt threw his arms around him, hugging him tightly.

'Oh, sweetie, I'm so proud of you!' he gushed, 'was he okay with you moving to New York? I hope he was! Oh my god, I am _so_ proud, I can't even tell you how amazing this is, I – _mmf!_'

Blaine kissed him again, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close, pushing him against the living room wall as Kurt moaned into the kiss, his hands tangling in Blaine's hair. A second later, there was a loud _thump_ on the other side of the wall and they jumped apart, looking for the source of the sound.

'If you two are quite done,' Martin grinned, peeking out from the doorway, 'we'd like to see you guys in the kitchen.'

Blaine rolled his eyes but took Kurt's hand and led him into the kitchen, where Clarissa stood waiting for them, pouring champagne into tall, sparkling glasses.

'Alcohol, mum?' Blaine raised his eyebrows at her, 'really?'

'One glass won't kill you,' she winked, holding out a glass to Kurt, who took it, looking interested at the pale pink of the champagne.

'It's lady champagne,' Martin complained, taking a glass and looking into the glass with an expression of mild disgust, 'screw this, I'm getting a beer.'

He went over to the fridge and Clarissa sighed, handing Blaine a glass and taking up her own. She smiled.

'So, I just want to congratulate you, Blaine,' she started, looking younger and happier than he'd seen her in a long, long time, 'I always knew that you would go somewhere with fighting – and while it isn't exactly my_ favorite _thing in the world, I'll always be here to support you as much as I can and I'm so very proud of you, honey.'

She kissed Blaine on the cheek and he hugged her for a moment, before Martin raised his bottle of beer and grinned.

'A toast to Blaine!'

Blaine rolled his eyes at how ridiculous the whole situation was, but he smiled at Martin and his mother and took a sip of his champagne before setting it down. He noticed Kurt take a large gulp of his and resisted the urge to chuckle – he couldn't imagine what Burt would do to him if he sent Kurt home drunk.

'Thank you, guys,' he smiled at them, and took Kurt's hand, 'thank you guys for all the support you've given me. It means more than you'll ever know.'

Martin and Clarissa beamed at him and Kurt pulled Blaine closer.

'Perhaps we can go upstairs and I can show you exactly how proud I am?' he whispered, and Blaine felt a chill run down his spine. He saw Martin raise his eyebrow at him and he couldn't stop a light blush from spreading across his cheeks.

'Well if you two are done, Kurt and I are going to go up to my room,' he told them, trying to keep his voice steady. Martin smirked at him and his mother smiled.

'Of course, sweetie,' she smiled, 'you two have fun now.'

'Oh, I bet they will,' Martin snickered, and Blaine shot him a glare, but pulled Kurt upstairs into his room nevertheless, locking the door behind them for good measure.

'So, we're alone,' Kurt commented lightly, sitting on Blaine's bed. Blaine chuckled.

'_Relax baby, now we're all alone_,' he sang softly, taking his jacket off and dropping it on the floor. Kurt raised his eyebrows in amusement.

'Really, Blaine? Rod Stewart?'

'_If you want my body, and you think I'm sexy…_' Blaine continued. Kurt snorted.

'Stop that,' he ordered, 'that is so cheesy.'

Blaine stuck his tongue out at him and pulled him into a hug.

'So what's going to happen next?' Kurt asked, pulling Blaine back so that they were lying down. Blaine kissed his cheek.

'I'm going to go down to Nevada after graduation to scope it out,' Blaine replied, stroking Kurt's hair, 'and then I'm going to fight around once a month for three thousand dollars a fight.'

Kurt made an appreciative noise.

'That sounds pretty good. And he's going to let you go to New York?'

'He doesn't care where I go, as long as I fight for him.' Blaine grinned. Kurt rolled on top of him and kissed him lightly.

'I'm so proud of you, you know.'

Blaine smiled, 'thank you. That means a lot, you know.'

'No, I mean, I'm _really_ proud.'

Kurt's voice had dropped an octave and Blaine felt the familiar chill run down his spine again and he wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and kissed him again.

'How proud?'

'_So _proud,' Kurt murmured, pressing their lips together and kissing him deeply. Blaine rolled them over so that he was now on top of Kurt and he ran his hands up and down Kurt's body, kissing him fervently. Kurt moaned softly and his hands slipped under the hem of Blaine's shirt, running his hands over the taut muscles of his back.

Blaine's lips moved from Kurt's to his throat, kissing his way down as Kurt's breath began to speed up beneath him.

Kurt pulled Blaine back up to him and kissed him deeply, pulling Blaine's shirt over his head and throwing it onto the floor.

'Mm, maybe we should slow down.' Blaine suggested, breaking from the kiss for a moment before Kurt rolled them over and pressed Blaine into the mattress.

'We're celebrating,' he argued, grinding his hips into Blaine's. Blaine let out a low moan, feeling heat begin to coil in his stomach.

His pants began to feel a bit too tight and with a sigh, he pushed Kurt off him gently.

'What are you doing?' Kurt whined, crossing his arms over his chest. Blaine bit his lip.

'Are you sure you want to do this again?'

'Did you really just ask me that question?'

Blaine ran his hands over his face and through his hair, trying to cool himself down a little, 'yes, Kurt, I am.'

Kurt cocked his head to the side, 'why?'

Blaine sighed again and took Kurt's hand.

'Kurt, this is… a big deal for me,' Blaine admitted, 'and it's a big deal for our relationship.'

'I know it is.'

'Kurt, seriously.' Blaine frowned, 'I know that sex isn't a big deal for some people but it is for me because… you know, I've never done this with anyone before.'

'I haven't either.'

Blaine rolled his eyes, 'Kurt, can you please take this seriously? I want to talk about this.'

Kurt's expression softened, 'sure, sweetie. Talk to me.'

Blaine hesitated, 'I – this is a way to connect to someone on a new level. A deeper level. I – I've never had that before. Not like _this_. And it's scary, you know? Like… opening yourself up like that. I mean, it's okay if it's not that huge to you but for me… it's a bit intimidating.'

'Aw, honey,' Kurt pouted slightly, leaning over to kiss his cheek, 'I know what you mean. It is scary – but I'm not scared, not that much, because it's with you, you know? I trust you and I love you and I want to be able to do this.'

'I don't want this to become the basis of our relationship.' Blaine told him firmly, 'we've already beat a lot of odds, you know? I mean, other couples are just… in it for the sex, but we're – we're not, are we?'

'Blaine,' Kurt laughed, 'we've slept together once, okay? It's not going to take over our relationship, I _promise_.'

Blaine smiled at him.

'Really?'

'Blaine, I'm with you because I love you. You're amazing and I love you, alright?'

Blaine leaned forward and kissed him softly, 'alright.'

There was a small silence and Kurt laughed softly.

'You totally killed the mood.' he commented, and Blaine blushed lightly.

'Sorry for being insecure,' he retorted playfully, and Kurt shoved him.

'You're adorable,' Kurt smiled, 'do you just want to watch a movie or something?'

Blaine shrugged, 'or maybe we can just sleep?'

'Sleep is nice.' Kurt grinned, pulling Blaine into his arms and back against the pillows.

'I love you,' Blaine murmured against Kurt's hair, 'so very much.'

'And I you, my love,' Kurt replied, turning his head and kissing his neck softly.

Kurt fell asleep shortly after, and Blaine lay away, stroking Kurt's arm absentmindedly while staring up at his ceiling. He couldn't wipe the small smile off of his face; everything was working out perfectly.

* * *

><p>'Alright, you know where it… is… I'm just going to find a parking spot, alright?'<p>

Blaine nodded and Martin and opened the car door, feeling Kurt tighten his grip around his hand. He took a deep breath and stepped out onto the gravel, his eyes scanning the cemetery before him.

'It'll be okay, sweetie,' Kurt murmured they walked through the gate of the cemetery. Blaine bit his lip as they navigated through the tombstones. He'd memorized the path but he hadn't taken it for a long time. He passed graves, eyes briefly scanning the writing, a hollow feeling setting in his stomach at the sight of all tombstones. He knew that Kurt was feeling similar – Kurt's mother had died, too, and the idea that someone knew how he felt was comforting.

'How far is it?' Kurt asked quietly, and Blaine pointed – they weren't far now.

He could feel the tears welling up as they approached his father's grave; and as he reached it, he released Kurt's hand and dropped to his knees in front of it, his heart thudding dully in his chest.

Kurt bit his lip and put his hand on Blaine's shoulder, squeezing softly. He read the writing on the tombstone – which was kept simple and clean – and felt his heart sink.

_Jonathan Anderson._

_1973-2011_

_Father. Husband. Brother. Champion._

_He fought until the very end._

Kurt's eyes filled with tears and he brushed them away, not wanting to cry in front of Blaine. He dropped next to Blaine and wrapped an arm around him.

'Are you alright, baby?' he asked gently. He heard Blaine sniff and his boyfriend dragged a hand over his eyes. Kurt pressed a kiss to cheek.

'I – I'm okay,' Blaine replied, though his voice cracked and Kurt couldn't possibly believe him.

'You can be sad,' Kurt assured him, 'it's okay to cry.'

'I don't want to cry,' Blaine told him, sounding miserable, 'I don't want him to – to see me upset.'

Kurt cursed silently, his heard breaking.

'It's alright, he won't mind,' he promised, 'he knows how strong you've been, it's okay to cry.'

Blaine swallowed thickly and a few tears rolled down his cheeks.

'I – I want to talk to him,' he admitted, 'but I don't want you to think I'm ridiculous.'

'I would never think that,' Kurt breathed, pulling him in for a hug, 'I just – don't ever think that. I always talk to him.'

Blaine nodded against Kurt's shoulder and Kurt released him. Blaine sat back and crossed his legs and patted the ground next to him. Kurt sat and rested his head on Blaine's shoulder.

'Hey dad,' he started quietly, his fingers toying with the grass in front of him, 'I know it's been a while since I've last spoken to you, and I hope you're not mad because of it. I – I miss you.'

He felt Kurt's hand slip into his and squeeze it reassuringly.

Blaine glanced at Kurt as best he could and pressed a kiss to his hair.

'I have a boyfriend now,' he continued, his tone a little lighter now, 'you would love him, I promise. His name is Kurt and he's beautiful. He's been helping me with my fighting; I know you would have liked that. Um,' he turned to Kurt, 'did you – did you want to say hello?'

Kurt raised his head and Blaine looked at him hesitantly. Kurt smiled warmly at him.

'Hey, Mr. Anderson,' he addressed the grave, and the look Blaine gave him was one of complete adoration, 'I'm Kurt, and I'm in love with your son. I heard he's a lot like you, so you must have been a pretty amazing person.'

A second later he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and Blaine's lips on his as he kissed him.

'Thank you so much,' he breathed. Kurt kissed him lightly.

'Don't keep your dad waiting,' he smiled gently, and Blaine turned back to the grave.

'So… I've been fighting,' Blaine told him, 'like, fighting a lot. And I have some really good news for you.'

He paused, whether for dramatic effect or to collect himself, Kurt didn't know, but when he spoke again, he sounded both proud and heartbroken.

'I won, dad,' he smiled softly, 'I won the featherweight championship. It's what we both wanted, I know. I – I hope you're proud of me, dad. I just wanted to make you proud.'

Kurt couldn't take it anymore – he broke down into silent sobs, overwhelmed by the emotion of the situation. Blaine noticed and let his own guard down, his tears falling thick and fast into his lap as he tried to continue talking.

'A-and that's not the best part,' he whispered, trying to smile through his tears, 'I – I got a contract f-from Bernard Stanford. He wants me t-to fight for him. We made it, dad. We made it.'

He felt a wave of emotion crash over him and he buried his face in his hands, letting himself cry freely.

'I just wish you were here,' he sobbed, 'I wish we could do this together. I – I – I wish you could have s-seen me fight, dad, I was good. I – just like you taught me. I miss you s-so much.'

He felt Kurt take his hand again and he leaned his head against Kurt's shoulder, his tears soaking into Kurt's shirt. He felt Kurt wrap his free arm around him.

There were footsteps behind them and Kurt turned to see Martin and Clarissa hanging behind them tentatively, obviously not wanting to interrupt. Blaine felt his hands begin to shake and he knew he wouldn't be able to sit there for much longer without completely breaking down, so he exhaled sharply.

'I love you, dad,' he whispered, but his voice was stronger than it had been through the whole encounter, 'and I know you're proud of me. I miss you, but I'm going to keep making you proud, because you made me proud. I – I love you. I'll come visit soon.'

He raised his hand to his lips and kissed his palm before pressing it against the grass over his father's grave. He bit his lip and stared at the tombstone for a few more moments before getting to his feet. Kurt stood next to him, not releasing his hand, and they turned to face his mother and Martin.

Blaine opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't find the words, so he merely nodded shakily. Clarissa and Martin looked a little misty eyed.

'I – I'm going to go and sit in the car…' Blaine told them quietly, staring at the ground.

'O-okay.' Clarissa replied, and Blaine could hear the break in her voice. He let go of Kurt's hand for a second and walked over to his mother, hugging her tightly. He kissed her cheek and then clapped Martin on the shoulder.

'You're okay, aren't you honey?' Clarissa asked gently. Blaine smiled softly and nodded.

'I – I'll be okay,' he replied, and she kissed him on the cheek, 'go. Talk to dad.'

She smiled at him and Blaine went back to Kurt, taking his hand and offering Martin and his mother another shaky smile. They began to walk back to the car in silence, the mood between them both a little morbid and comfortable.

'Blaine, are you okay?' Kurt asked as they stepped out of the gate. He stopped walking and took Blaine's other hand in his.

'I'm fine. I'm going to be fine.' he replied resolutely, 'that… helped.'

'He's proud of you,' Kurt smiled, his own eyes still a little watery, 'I know he is. We're all proud of you.'

'I'm glad I could make you proud.'

Kurt leaned forward and kissed him softly.

'He would have liked you,' Blaine told him quietly, 'you two would have gotten along great. I – I wish you could have met him.'

'I wish I could have too,' Kurt agreed softly, 'I'm proud of how strong you were back there.'

'I cried like a baby.'

'Sometimes breaking down and crying is a lot stronger than keeping a brave face,' Kurt told him simply, 'I thought you were very courageous, baby.'

'Thank you,' Blaine smiled softly, 'I couldn't have done it without you.'

'It was my pleasure,' Kurt smiled happily, and swung their hands as they continued to the car.

'Have you realized that life is moving very quickly?' Blaine asked as they reached the car. He leaned against the hood and looked up at Kurt.

'What do you mean?' Kurt asked.

'I mean, we're moving to New York soon, we're graduating, I'm going to fight professionally…' Blaine trailed off, smiling softly, 'I mean, I didn't think all of this would happen so fast.'

'It's exciting, isn't it?' Kurt grinned, 'we're going to have so much fun. I'm so excited.'

'I'm glad it's you I'm moving with,' Blaine told him, 'I love you more than anything, Kurt.'

Kurt walked over to him and kissed you gently.

'I love you too,' he replied softly, 'everything will be okay, I promise you.'

They heard crunching on the gravel and they looked around to see Martin and Clarissa approaching them, their cheeks streaked with tears.

'Are you guys ready to go?' Martin asked, his voice thick. Kurt looked at Blaine and Blaine nodded.

'Yeah, I'm ready.'

Kurt slipped his hand into Blaine's and squeezed it as they walked around to the car door.

Blaine stared out the window as they drove home, a mixture of feelings swirling inside him. He felt a lot lighter inside now that he'd spoken to his father – but he also missed him more than he ever had. On the other hand, he was about to burst with excitement; he had just signed the contract of a lifetime, he was graduating in a few months and he had an amazing family, friends and boyfriend to support him on his way to the top.

Not even a year ago he was in tatters, and he was surprised at how much had changed since then. He'd been given a number of amazing things and opportunities and was not about to let any of it go to waste.

With that thought, he felt a new wash of determination set inside of him. He was going to do whatever he could to become a success so that he could provide for his family and for Kurt. He was going to gain the honor of being a renowned fighter and he couldn't wait for school to finish so that he could get started.

'You okay?'

Blaine turned to Kurt and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

'I'm more than okay.' he replied, completely honestly. Kurt smiled at him and Blaine smiled back, because the boy next to him was part of the reason he was so keen to become a success.

He turned back to look out the window and felt peace wash through him. For the first time in so long he felt completely sure of himself and his future.

He smiled to himself as the outside world blurred past him. Everything would be okay. He knew that he would be fine no matter where he ended up.

He was a fighter, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I had to end this when I did because I wouldn't have been able to stop otherwise, and I'm actually feeling a little emotion because it's over! I didn't want it to end, but it did. I think I'm going to start a sequel when I have time and hopefully you guys will actually read it because… people actually read this, surprisingly. :P<br>I hope you enjoyed the story because I completely adored writing this. Your reviews, alerts and favorites have made my days since this story has started. I love you all so much, thank you for your support!**


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